


Snippets

by Candyfloss_And_Fairymoss



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, cuphead is 21+ in all my writings, self indulgent stuff, this may become multichaptered but i wouldn't hold your breath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 26,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candyfloss_And_Fairymoss/pseuds/Candyfloss_And_Fairymoss
Summary: Self indulgent DiceCup snippets





	1. Chapter 1

_**Makeup** _

Dice's vanity is a place of wonder for Cuphead, who watches as his boyfriend gets ready to go out and work for the night. There are lights all round the mirror (they almost blind him as Dice turns it on), drawers upon drawers with even smaller compartments inside them, and a seat that they have argued over countless times in good nature whether it is a tuffet or not. Cup currently perches on the window-seat next to the vanity and finds his eyes wandering over Dice as he works.

He isn't sure how he got so lucky, but he makes a mental note to thank every deity he can think of.

Dice is covered in freckles, surprisingly, his shoulders and hips covered in purple spots ranging from big to small and light to dark. He loves how they cluster on him like constellations, and fondly eyes a cluster just around his slim waist dipping into his boxers. He's all lean muscle, almost an hourglass figure, and his legs are so long and slim that Cup finds himself tracing them with his sight. Two slightly rosy-purple nipples -he doesn't really have a name for the color besides sensitive and delicious- and a happy trail down his tummy.

"Staring is rude.", Dice quips, serious even in jest, as he leans back in the chair -tuffet- and breathes in deeply, peacocking, "Unless you tell me what you're thinking."

"You're beautiful."

He sits up and watches Cuphead closely then. Its not like he's never heard the compliment before, he hears it a lot, but he will never get used to Cuphead saying it. It takes his bravado away, along with his breath, and makes his heart stall just before it slams around again with a cocktail of emotions that have him leaning to the window seat and kissing him. He doesn't want to leave yet, doesn't want to wake up and make up and leave this little quiet place with Cuphead, but he has to. The kiss deepens and he scoots the chair closer, Cups hands on his shoulders while his tongue teases and evades him. Cup pulls away first, peppering kisses along his cheek, "Get ready, I won't distract you anymore."

He wishes he would, thinks about asking him to, but instead goes back to preparing. Cup watches him. A light purple powder gets smoothed over his eyelids, a wax over his mustache to shape it, and then a small black pot and a miniature paintbrush makes an appearance. He dips it in the little pot, and rests his elbows on the table, letting his eyes go half lidded to ease the application.

"Can I?"

He stops and turns to look at Cup, "Hmm?"

"Can I put it on you?"

"I don't see why not.", and he doesn't mind at all, a glance at the clock proves he has time. He hands over the loaded brush and closes his eyes, "Just don't draw something crazy." Cup's hand is on his cheek then, gently and soft, and for a few moments he's worried that Cup has dropped the brush, and then he feels it on his eye. One swoop, two, and then something by the corner of his eye. He opens his eyes and gives him a quick wink, before closing them again to let him try the other eye. Cup's gentle, his hand shakes a bit but not wildly, and his other eye is done a bit slower than the first. "Okay, do you want the other thing?"

Mascara. "You wanna do it?"

"Yeah, if you'll let me."

"Go for it."

He gets the little black tube -pausing to make sure its the right kind- and opens it. Dice opens his eyes and watches the brush get nearer and nearer, and has to fight squinting as it taps along his lashes in nervous little strokes. "Okay, done." He flutters his eyes slowly, waiting for any excess to fall off and is thankful none does. He straightens in his chair and turns to look in the mirror. The lines are the barest bit shakey along the inner corners of his eye, and the wings don't exactly match, but he finds himself smiling.

"You can take it o-"

"I'll wear it with pride, you did a very good job.", he steals a few kisses, before opening a drawer and taking out a pencil and wand that he has never found the time to use, "Now, hold still."

It makes him wince to have something this sharp so close to his eye, sort of how one cannot fathom the idea of a needle being near them at all, but he finds it doesn't hurt and at the most feels like a finger near his eye. Dice is quick, years of practice helping him find the right angles and pressure to use. The mascara goes on with little effort, and Dice even finds a moment to swipe on a rosy eye shadow before placing Cuphead before the vanity. "1 2 3... open." It makes him look... almost sultry, borderline vampy, especially when he lets his lids rest sleepily.

He laughs, "You gave me bedroom eyes."

"No, just enhanced your natural ones.", he places a kiss on his shoulder, and deftly steals another as Cup turns to face him, "I think it looks nice, you can take it off if you'd like."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They walk through the casino to the entrance. Heads turn when Cup blinks, and Dice can't stop his smile. Wheezy waves him down from the smoke shop, points at Cuphead and gives him a thumbs up. He returns with a solemn nod, and maybe walks a little faster. "Wash it off with water and soap before you go to bed, or you'll never get it out of your pillows.", he steals kisses between words, "I love you." "Love you too, Dice. I'll see you later. Be safe!", and after a few more kisses he's going, and Dice is headed back inside. ..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

_**Cologne** _

He notices it while doing laundry one day.

Strong and heady on the left side of his bed: bergamot and musk, spice and something that makes his stomach flip flop with excitement because he knows the wearer. He takes a deeper smell even knows which one it is: silver and black bottle, gold sprayer, half full. He loves that cologne on him, the bottle stands so tall and regal like him, but what he also loves is why that cologne is all over his sheets.

He remembers a few hours earlier. Dice gasping and arcing beneath him as he rocked his hips into him, asking him if he was loving what he was doing, and finding himself silent as Dice professed an undying love for him topping. The memory of Dice gripping the sheets as his cock twitched against his stomach and his body clenched around him so tight he knew he wouldn't last much longer either.

Another sniff, and into the machine it goes. He doesn't mind. Later that night he swears he smells it as he gets ready for bed, and can't help the fire in his belly at the memory.

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

_**Rings** _

He doesn't forget Cuphead's mention of marriage.

So he starts asking. What's your favorite color, do you like silver or gold, diamonds or a gem, etc., etc. He spaces the questions out, asks them in passing, and sometimes goes to his brother for answers instead if he feels Cup is getting suspicious.

"Why are you asking me this.", Mug is curious as they do the dishes while Cala and Cup clear the table and set up the board game.

"I'm getting something for Cup."

"...."

He knows. He waits to see Mugman's reaction, his heart fluttering at the base of his throat. "He likes gold, I don't know about cuts or facets or anything, but a simple diamond may be the way to go.", Mug pauses, "It's a ring, right?"

He nods. Mug nods then, and looks to the living room for a moment before looking back at Dice, "Go window shopping. It easier, trust me."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dice slips to the restroom and Cala pipes up once he's out of earshot, "Did he tell you what metal he likes?" Cup groans, "I feel like its gunmetal, he told me once but I could be wrong!" Mug sips his drink and pushes his piece forward three spaces, "Take him window shopping. Spy on him Cup, he's bound to like something and you can use that as a launch pad." "Hey! Thats a great Idea! Thanks Mugs!" Mugman grins.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Bubbles** _

It happens the first time they kiss.

Cup grabs handfuls of his lapel as he leans into the desk behind him, teasing him with kisses that could make a butterfly landing look hard. Dice grins before yanking him back into his chest, muffling his squeal with a kiss that has him squirming and gasping. He tastes like Irish coffee, sweet and heady, and he delves his tongue between his lips for a better taste. He pulls away, and laughs at Cup's slack jawed, awed face. 

And then they hear a popping noise. Soft, subtle, and seemingly out of nowhere.

Cup jumps at the sound, and reaches up to clear away a surprising amount of creamy bubbles that have appeared out of nowhere. "Sorry! Sorry!" His hands just make it worse, they flutter away but more foam up to replace them as he gets more flustered.

Dice reaches up and stills his hands, pulling them to his mouth to press kisses to his knuckles, and then lean forward to slurp up one cluster of bubbles that was extremely close to dripping into Cup's eyes, "You must really like me~"

The bubbles surge forward, even his straw is burbling now, and his cheeks warming to, "You already  _know_ I do!"

................................................................................................................................................................................................

**_Pips_ **

He moans, and then claps a hand over his mouth so fast it hurts.

Cup's hand is still there, absentmindedly stroking a circle around one of the purple pips on the back of his head. He's drowsy, and Dice can't really be mad because he didn't know, but he's heard him now and yanks his hand away, "I'm sorry!"

"Its alright, you didn't know."

Cup smiles nervously, "Are they all sensitive?"

"Just the ones on the back."

"I'll keep that in mind."

And then they both pause, the double meaning between them like a stone in water.

"Hot."

" _Dice!"_

................................................................................................................................................................................................

**_Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, Spades_ **

"Watch them for me?", Dice places a pack of cards on the table before Cuphead and goes back to washing the dishes.

Cup wonders just what he could watch about a deck of cards, when the deck starts to deal itself. They slide across the table and make little formations before standing. "They usually this energetic?"

"Hmm? What are they doing?", Dice watches from the corner of his eye, a smile on his face.

The cards tilt about the table, some seem to converse together quietly, others seem more interested with Cuphead, "Nothing really, they're kinda cute when they aren't huge and organized."

Dice laughs, glad the memory isn't awkward to think of, "They like you."

They do seem like it, crawling into Cup's palm for scratches and across his shoulders to try and look into his head. He laughs as they push his straw around his rim, Dice snaps his fingers as he drains the sink and they all slip back into the formation shown earlier before shuffling back into the deck box.

"Do they always go in that formation?"

"What did it look like?"

Cup grins, "Hearts."

Dice kisses him, glad to know that his nearest and dearest workers approve, "No, only when they really like someone."

"Good." 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Can't Sleep Love** _

Cup finds himself staying up later, laying on his back in bed and staring up at the ceiling like he's waiting for something. He isn't sure what but he misses it so, sometimes.

Some nights he lays there and plans his tomorrow, and perhaps gets up and tidies his room for a few seconds before flopping back into bed. He closes his eyes and let's his mind go blank in a last ditch effort to find sleep.

_Freckles, slim hips, green eyes, hands that grip his and lips that have him chasing after him_

He's awake, his hands over his face that's as red as his straw stripes. He lets himself indulge.

_Kissing him, holding him, loving him, making love to him. His hands, the scar over his knee and the little happy trail of peach fuzz just below his navel._

He grins, and God he can't  _stop_ grinning, he loves the way he moves and the way he looks and his voice and just  _Dice._

_The way he cocks his head to the side if hes curious, the way he chuckles and laughs at Cup's antics, his smile, his moans, the way that he wiggles his mustache when he's feeling frisky and wants Cup to know._

Cuphead hugs his midsection and lets out a noise akin to a squeal that makes him feel foolish and happy and silly and safe and God does he love him some King Dice. 

......................................................................................................................................................................................

Dice rarely sleeps, but he finds himself in his bedroom one night, so drowsy he can barely make it from his office to his apartment. He knows he shouldn't sleep in his clothes but he's simply too damn tired.

The phone rings and he groans, considers not answering, but finds himself trudging towards it. 

"Hello?"

"Oh, we're you asleep?", Cup sounds apologetic

"No! No-", he leans on the dresser, "No, just got in."

"I'll let you get some rest then.", he hears him shift on the other side, preparing to hang up, "G'night DiDi."

"Wait."

He can hear him breathing, and looks down to see his finger twirling the phone cord. He shakes the tightly wrapped coil loose, "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

"Sleep with me?"

A pause, he wonders if this is too... too. 

"On the phone?"

"If you would."

Another pause, he can hear Cup giggling behind his hand, but it's not a malicious giggle. It's the one he loves, the one he gives before he kisses him, or holds his hand.

"Lemme pick up the bedroom reciever."

"Ditto."

They make the necessary adjustments, moving to their bedrooms and propping the receivers up on pillows.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes.", Dice sounds relieved, "You don't think this is weird?"

"No,", and he can hear Cup shifting around the covers, "It's just something new is all. What's up, how was work?"

"Fine. Dandy. Made some good money, the cards made an appearance", he eyes the reciever lovingly, "How was your day?"

"Good. Me and Mugs got some yard work done", he yawns with a faint 'excuse me', "Cleaned gutters."

He smiles, "I love you."

"I love  _you_ ", he can hear his grin through the phone. 

Slowly, they doze off. Cup drifts first, and those tiny little snores have Dice blinking slower and slower until he's asleep.

.......................................................................

"He couldn't sleep, Mugs!"

"You better pay this bill 'fore I drop kick you."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Peanut Butter** _

He loves when he catches Dice in his less than kingly moments.

He calls them undignified minutes, but Cup calls them endearing.

"They remind me that you're normal."

"Ha ha, am I not otherwise?"

He smiles, "You're perfect, to the point that seeing you do things that are less perfect is..satisfying."

........................................................................

His favorite snack is peanut butter. Melted. straight from the jar. It's simple, but he's loved it since his childhood, pinching spoonfuls from the jar before someone could shoo him from it.

He hasn't had any in awhile, and during his next shopping trip he tosses it into his basket, feeling a tingle of anticipation go up his spine. His teeth practically ache when he touches it, he knows it'll be good later.

Surprisingly, he forgets about it as the day goes on as he works and later has Cuphead pop by for a visit. They lounge on the couch together, a movie he's barely paying attention to flitting by as he lazy pushes Cups's straw around. And then-

_"Spiffy Peanut Butter! Makes sandwiches, snacks and sweets more spiffy! Kids love it, Moms choose it! Spiffy Peanut Butter!"_

They show a mother spreading the peanut butter on some toast and setting it out for two hungry kids, and Dice finds himself wondering if he actually did buy any. He excuses himself to the kitchen.

He peels the paper seal off carefully so the metal underside doesn't stick, then throws it in the microwave. He's suddenly grateful for the invention, thinking back to when he was a kid begging to boil water so he could sit the plastic jar in it and wait for the stuff to get molten. This is easier.

The peanut butter is hot, and he winced as he hurriedly moves it from the microwave to the counter, selecting a spoon from a drawer and dipping it into the deceptively smooth surface. The first spoonful is heaven, warm and slick and liquid, he smiles around his spoon. The next spoonful is a bit shakey, and a bit lands on the hand holding the jar, he licks it away. 

He is so busy with his fourth spoonful he doesn't see Cuphead just beyond the door frame, a smile on his face.

"You like peanut butter?"

He jumps, not sure why, and puts the jar down through a force of habit. "Only when it's warm." He feels his cheeks heating up, like a child caught with a broken window and a baseball mitt to go with it.

Cup smiles at him, "You're adorable, you know that, 'specially when you think you look undignified?" He walks over to him, and Dice offers him a spoonful of peanut butter he gladly accepts.

"Glad you think so."

They finish the movie, and steal kisses between commercials. Cup laughs into the first few and remarks that King tastes like a peanut butter sandwich before licking a small bit from the corner of his mouth.

They end up a tangle of limbs and discarded clothing, and sweet, undignified peanut butter kisses


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting pinned is a concept I learned from the movie/play Bye Bye Birdie. I thought it was really cute.

_**Pinned** _

The casino is abuzz with information and gossip. From who has decided to start dealing with the devil to the residents of the Isles to the latest from the showgirls of the stage. 

Today, they are abuzz about pins.

Specifically a crown shaped pin that belongs to King Dice. He usually sports it on his lapel, right above his name tag, but today its missing. Its not odd that it's missing to be quite honest, and many would say that they aren't worried about it. They are merely interested in where it went, like when you discover that a button is missing from a shirt you are about throw out: where is the button, what happened to it?

They ask, and Dice simply replies that its somewhere safe.

 _That_ is a tad odd. Staff proceeds to wonder if someone had tried to steal it and the statement is a thinly veiled threat to the potential thief, or perhaps he has lost it and doesn't want to admit it? They speculate, the Casino isn't open yet and there isn't much else to do so the story becomes wild speculation. He's hiding it from someone, someone did try to steal it and he's waiting for someone to go after it to catch them, it was stolen and he's trying to see if someone is dumb enough to wear it around him, its been revoked and he is no longer King Dice and they shall now call him Not King Dice like a teacher you don't respect. 

They don't dare, but the idea is enough to make them chuckle.

The whispers are starting to get louder -for really, a good speculation is great fun- when Cuphead strolls through the Casino and right up to Dice. He steals a kiss, Dice pulls at something on his shirt, steals another kiss, and then Cup is leaving. "Have a good day, Dice!", he turns to wave. 

Then the whispers get borderline shout-y

"Did they really get pinned?"

"Did he kiss him and cry?"

"Did he pin the pin on? Or was he too shy?"

King Dice eyes them all and they rush away to do work a little further from him and to keep talking. 

"Did you see! He got pinned!"

"I was hopin' they would!"

"He's gone, it won't last!"

Devil makes an appearance, striding through the staff to Dice's side, a cigar in hand and a grin on his face getting wider and wider the closer he gets. "You got him pinned?"

"Just till I can get the ring."

"Wheres yours?"

Dice grins, "Don't have one.", he lifts his hand and there sits a ring. Its a small band, black tungsten with a deep purple stone, he smiles at it softly with wistful eyes "He beat me to asking."

"Nice. My Dice is gonna be an honest man.", he claps him on the shoulder and offers a conjured cigar, "Congratulations."

The whispers have stopped, Dice barely noticed, and now looks up to see some very shocked staff very close to them, and some meandering off to no doubt spread the word. 

"We aren't gonna get any real work done now, hmm?"

"Probably not.", Devil huffs a string of smoke as a waitress leans over the bar station with a hushed whisper, and the bartender drops a lemon he was cutting in shock, "Definitely not."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Four Little Words** _

The ring arrives a few weeks later, a custom order from the mainland that he picked out himself. He hopes Cup likes it as much as he thinks he will: one diamond ringed in smaller red stones, the band is silver. He puts it in its box, snapping it shut for what feels like the 30th time today, then snaps it back open.

What should he say? He wishes he knew how to cram so much into those words. 

Cup had somehow managed it. 

........................................................................................................................................................................................

_"I wouldn't trade this for anything.", he whispers, as he grips Dice's hand one night, "Not a thing."_

_Dice leans into him, a smile on his face, "What are you doing?" He can feel Cup rummaging in his pocket for something._

_"Dice."_

_He sits up, and looks him right in the eye. Cuphead looks slightly nervous, a smile on his face as he slips off the couch and onto one knee. Dice can feel his heart slam up into his throat and beat around there, fit to knock his ribs off their pegs. Cup looks up at him in a way that has his palms sweating and his lips drawing into a thin line, if this is what he thinks it is-_

_"King Dice."_

_Sugar Honey Iced Tea, it is._

_"I don't think that there are enough words to describe just how I feel for you, so I tried to think of a few that could. You have become a part of my life that I can't see myself without, and when we talked about this that morning when we ran in from the rain, and you mentioned me getting tired of you, moving on..."_

_He remembers that, he nods._

_"I knew I wouldn't. I love you, King Dice. And I want you to be the only one I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I see at night, I want to be with you when the stars fizzle out just to turn to you and feel you hang them back up again, because thats how you make me feel."_

_He's not sure when he started tearing up, and he's really not sure when he started shaking slightly._

_"Kingsley Dice.", and now he is crying at the mention of his full name, "Will you, someday, when we're ready, marry me?"_

_His yes is soft and for a moment he thinks he hasn't truly said it, but Cup stands up and there is the band, slipped deftly onto his finger. The kisses that follow have to be some of the sweetest he's ever had, the teariest too._

_"I was supposed to ask you first~", he chuckles, sounding just the tad bit blubbery._

_"I asked you out first, asked you to be my first, figured I'd keep the streak.", he grins that devil-may-care grin and Dice is laughing through his tears._

..................................................................................................................................................................................

He shouldn't be this nervous, but he is. 

Dinner goes without a hitch, and then dessert, and then coffee, and then he's running out of things to use as time to think about what he wants to say. He eyes his lapel pin on Cup's sweater, the placeholder he's going to replace tonight. It gleams at him almost tauntingly, and he sighs, "Cuphead."

Cup looks up from a cup -irony so sickening that Dice almost laughs, but thinks better of it- and smiles, "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Dice."

He smiles, and stands up, before kneeling beside him -the King kneels for no one but you, he thinks wryly- "I've been thinking of a way to say this all night, without much luck because how do you put love into words? I say it to you a lot, but I think its time I showed you how much I love you, too." He retrieves the box from his pocket, "I gave you my pin to take the place of a ring, till it could get here. And now, with ring in hand, I find myself at a loss for words, something very bad in my line of work."

Cup laughs, and Dice can tell he's tearing up. 

"I love you, Cuphead, more than I think I could ever tell you. From your straw to your feet, and everything in between, I love you. Will you, someday, when we're ready-"

Cup is nodding already, smiling at the same phrase he used, "Marry me?"

He needn't have been so nervous, Cup is in his arms in a nanosecond, nodding and smiling and crying just a bit. The ring goes on his finger and, thank goodness, fits perfectly. 

Later that night, as they lounge over each other and try not to devolve into tears or laughter, Cup sits up and eyes him so seriously that Dice is worried.

"What is it?"

"Did we ever figure out how to waltz together?"

"Dammit."


	7. Chapter 7

**_Color Code_ **

Cuphead loves a lot of things about King Dice.

His smile, the way his eyes flash emerald when he's full of desire, his freckles, his laugh, his kisses, the way he cocks his head to the side when he's thinking, the way his lips curl back to revel pearly teeth, the scar in his right eyebrow, the way he blushes, everything.

But if he had to focus on something right now, it would be the way he looks in suits.

He loved his usual suit, lilac and dark violet with white accents, but tonight? 

God, he looks incredible.

The suit is a deep obsidian, and that isn't an analogy, there is something about the fabric that looks like chipped obsidian. It shifts as he moves, hints of silver flitting along his body as he deals cards with a debonair sweep of his hand, and that is what attracts Cup's eyes to the red vest beneath. The buttons are a dark black, diamond shaped, and his usual gold crown pin is replaced with a black diadem shaped one, it sits on his chest as a testament to his regality.  

"Double or nothing, fellas?" his voice, smoky and deep, has Cup leaning in to listen, "Nights young."

He slides the deck across the table, and with a flick of his wrist -and a flash of that smile he knows means he's feeling good- the cards flip over to reveal their faces before he slides them back into a stack and moves onto the next trick as people walk away from the table and others gather round to join the next game. His eyes track the newcomers, searching for anything unsavory in them, his brows quirk slightly as one sits a might closer to him than one should. He's probably a counter. Cup isn't worried in the slightest, Dice didn't get to be the Devil's Right Hand Man for nothing, and the grin on his face proves it. Counters are like a game of chess to him, he'll let him win a round or too until he gets so bold he bets something crazy, and then knock him down a heavy peg.

He eyes the newcomer almost fondly, and goes to deal out the next game.

Tonight, his usual purple eyeshadow has been replaced with crimson, and it makes his eyes appear dangerous like staring at him may cause him to stare back and trap you. 

" _Cuphead..... Cuphead.... CUPHEAD!"_

He jumps, sitting up ramrod straight, "Huh!?"

"You're spilling ya beer.", the Devil remarks from behind his hand, "And it's your turn."

"Sorry."

Wheezy grins, "He's got a counter, Boss."

Devil stops, and leans back in his chair to take a look at Dice's table. The counter is focusing to hard to notice the casino's owner is now watching him, or that Dice has flashed them a grin like a Yamaha piano, "He's fine."

"Sure is. Bet Cup here could tell us all about that."

"He looks good in red,", he counters, discarding a few cards, "He looks good in every color."

The counter leaves the table a few minutes later, looking a mix between confused and pissed that has them roaring with laughter. Dice joins them a few moments later, a winning grin on his face, "Deal me in, I've got that Devil's luck tonight~"

"I ain't playing then, I'm watching.", Wheezy leans from the table and waves over a waiter, "Last time you said you had luck I ended up on the roof with my nothing but my pride to keep me warm."

"Ain't my fault you don't know how to watch carefully~"

He leans back in his chair, and Cup is suddenly very aware of how the red is familiar, almost the same shade as-

He grins, and gets back to the game.

............................................................................................................................................................................

Later that week, when he goes to snap the waistband of Cup's shorts playfully as they ready for bed, he sees a flash of purple.

In his surprise he snaps the waistband back a little harder than he meant to.

"Whoop!"

"Sorry."

He immediately goes back in for a peek, gently pulling his shorts down to his ankles to revel a pair of... Not boxers. Something sinful in violet that clings to his hips and gives him a peek of skin. 

"Cuphead."

"Hm?~"

 "You never wear purple."

"You never wear red."

"Is that what this is about?", his hands grip his hips and his mouth dances along his shoulders, "Trying to show me up?"

"Not show you up, just get you off."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Dance With Me** _

Cuphead wobbles for what feels like the 18th time tonight, narrowly catching himself on the edge of the bed and setting himself to rights before slowly, tenatively, taking another step.

And another.

Another.

Another, faster.

He's on the ground before he can think about it, wondering if this is really how they should go about it.

"Cuphead!? You alright?"

"Fine! Just tripped!"

He hopes his lie is enough to keep Dice in his home office and away from the bedroom as he gets to his feet again. This shouldn't be so hard but it  _is._ He grips the bed and tries a few more daring steps, knowing that if he falls he can catch himself. Nothing.

He decides walking round the bed with a hand on it wouldn't be so hard. Besides, if he was dancing with Dice he's be holding on all night. He makes it halfway round before he stumbles, and even then he catches himself.

The door handle rattles.

"Cup? What are you doing? Whys the door locked?"

"One second!"

He kicks them off and slides them under his side of the bed hastily, he can get them later, and goes to open the door.

"You keep falling over in here, what are you doing?", Dice eyes him slowly, "And the doors locked?"

"Its a surprise!"

".... Is that surprise 6 inch heels?"

Cuphead pales, how could he have possibly-

"They're sticking out from under the bed."

He turns slowly, and there just peeping out from the bed skirt is his shoe. Dammit.

"Why are you trying to walk in heels?"

"Not walk, dance.", he huffs as he pulls them out, no point in hiding them now, "I was hoping to learn to walk in them by myself, then learn to waltz with you, and somehow put 2 and 2 together later."

Dice eyes him with these shoes, their heels are thick enough that he could dance in them well, and they look well made. He smiles, touched by the fact that Cup is so gung-ho to dance with him.

"Put them on."

Cup throws him a confused look, but slips the shoes on, fastening a little ankle buckle on the side to keep them snug before standing to his full height. Dice slips away to the radio on the dresser and dials in a channel. Slow, soft jazz filters through the room.

He takes his hands, and Cup smiles when he realizes he's tall enough to just about rest his head on Dice's chest if he so wishes -he ignores the fact that it would probably look like hes listening to his stomach growl- and then Dice is tapping his foot.

"Keep your feet straight with mine, like this, that way when we move you'll get a feel for where you need to go." His other hand drops to the small of his back, and slowly, they begin the first figure.

"When do I start counting?"

"Hmm? If you count you start when we start moving, One two three, one two three, one two three."

The steps are easy, he stumbles a few times, but eventually the stumbles become minor pauses and even then they barely notice them. The music goes from smooth jazz to something that's more intimate, a low growly song about a lover come and gone. Cup watches him through a dance stupor, his lips parted slightly as he tries to collect his thoughts. He looks good like this, just holding his arms and making turns, throwing in new moves they practice every now and again: a dip, a turn, a finishing maneuver. Its enough to make his head spin.

"I think we should stop for tonight."

"Mm?"

"We have plenty of time to learn, but right now-", he leans up, heels leaving his balanced precariously on the balls of his feet, "I wanna do a different dance."

The kiss is sweet, and then the radio lends another song. Smoky and sultry, the bass and the low lonely notes of a saxophone. Dice follows his gaze to the bed, a grin on his lips as Cup kicks off his shoes.

"You lead."

"Gladly."

  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood and Injury description in this chapter, lads! 
> 
> THE PARAGRAPH(s) CONTAINING THE DETAILS WILL BE MARKED OFF WITH PAGE BREAKS SO U CAN SKIP IT IF YOU'D LIKE!

_**Safe and Sound** _

He knows Cuphead's job isn't the safest out there. He works on roofs and in gardens, he lays tile and honestly, makes peoples home go from drab and overgrown to manicured and lovely.The Devil recruits them for garden renovations that year, and honestly, they're all excited to see more of each other.

He likes to watch him work, especially in the summer. He is lithe and limber and quick on his feet as he works alongside his brother, and Dice enjoys seeing him in his element. Right now, they work on pruning the rose bushes and shrubs, Cuphead manning the shears while Mugman collects the debris for mulch later. Dice looks across the garden at a couple that is walking through the maze, just for a moment or two, and then he hears the shears clatter to the ground.

"OW!"

He jumps, and frowns as he sees Cup double over, shielding his fist with his belly. He wouldn't be so concerned if Mugs didn't jump up and run to their truck for first aid kit.

"DON'T MOVE DON'T MOVE!"

He gets up and dashes over, flowing into a jog when he sees the blood dripping onto the grass, rubies among a sea of emerald.

* * *

 

His palm is split open, and it weeps as he squeezes it tight, a hiss of swears on his breath and his teeth gritted so tight that his jaw pops.

It isn't deep enough to do any lasting damage, he thanks his lucky stars, but it is wide enough that he will need stitches and it BURNS. He is vaguely aware that Dice is holding his hand above his head to staunch the bleeding, and a hot crimson river flows down his arm.

 

* * *

 

"I GOT SOME BANDAGES!"

"He needs a doctor!", he isn't sure when he started gasping like  _he_ has a problem, but he is all the same, " Wrap it up tight and lets go!"

They work quickly to bandage his hand into a tight fist, and run inside. They leave dots of ruby along the carpet, and Dice pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and lays it under his elbow.

"How ya doin, Cup?"

"I can still feel it so ok, on the other hand, i can still feel it and I want to die."

Dice leads them through the casino to the hall just behind the stage, this is where staff, mainly dancers and performance workers, end up after shows. There is a break room, a room that resembles the everyday living room, and then the clinic. They round the corner to the medics office, and for once Dice finds himself praying the IN sign is out. Luckily, it is, in a pale green that screams medicine and hospice. Behind the desk sits a man with a stethoscope chest piece for a head, he is kind looking, and smiles at first. "Hello, King- GOOD LORD!"

They know they must be a sight, Cup hanging between them with what looks like a boxing mitt for a hand, and the obvious blood everywhere.

"What happened!?", the medic rushes around the desk and ushers them to the examination table, he pulls a small kit from a shelf and a bottle, "Fight?"

"No, we were working in the garden outside and Cup cut himself on some shears!"

The medic pauses, and grabs a bigger bottle from the shelf before turning to the trio, "Still feel all your fingers? Your palm?"

Cup goes to flex his hand and groans, "And how!"

"Thats good!", he sits in the chair and slides up, filling a needle with something from the smaller vial, "Lets make you a little more comfortable and then we can get to work!"

Cup hates needles, and bristles at the very sight of the monster the medic is about to stick him with. He has little time to think on it as Dice pulls him to his chest and presses nervous kisses along his forehead. The needle goes in, Cup yelps and squeezes his forearm tight with his uninjured hand to alleviate some of the pain as the anesthetic is injected around his wound. Mug looks about ready to faint, and flops into a chair opposite them, "Sorry Cup! Can't look!", he hates the sight of blood, and is honestly impressed he's made it this far without gagging or worse.

"Who you sorry for, I ain't lookin either!" 

With the medicine applied, the medic flips open his stitching kit, sterilizing the needles and selecting thread that will suit the wound. Cup buries his head in Dice's chest as the wound gets poked at and inspected. "Ohhhh, God!"

"Shh, you can't feel it can you?"

"I can feel the pressure of his hands and I  _know_ it should be hurting and its just so  _bad,_ Dice!"

Dice shifts so he can comfortably hide his face, and he can't blame him for hiding. The needles look like they belong in a fisherman's hat, not a clinic, he closes his eyes and hopes that this just goes quickly. 

.........................................................................

The stitches look gnarly.

Big and bulky, wrapped in gauze and smelling of medicine, Cups hand looks like hes had a run in with some hornets.

"Don't get it wet, don't hit it or scratch, and don't over exert yourself! Come back if anything begins to look or smell funny.", the medic hands him a white paper bag, "Apply the cream once in the morning and once at night, and no heavy lifting. Take the pills as directed. Come again soon!"

"I'll try not to.", he stands, a little shakily, "Sorry to scare y'all."

"Cup, hush."

"It wasn't like you did it on purpose. It was an accident."

They make their way out of the clinic, slowly. Dice grips his good hand, and eyes the bandages in a way that has Cup watching him out of the corner of his eye. He looks... sad.

"Hey, Dice, come on! I'm alright!"

"You bled so much."

"Its my hand, it always bleeds a lot. Even for a paper cut."

He stops him, and frowns deeply, "Cuphead this is serious."

"I know!"

"You  _screamed_ when you cut yourself, Cup. I don't like when you get hurt, and shouldn't you have been wearing gloves!?"

Cup looks away then, he knows he should have, but he was sure that just this once he could probably get away with it. He'd done it before. 

"I'll wear them next time, I'm sorry, Dice.", he pouts and then gives that devil-may-care smile, "Can ya forgive me?"

He frowns a little tighter, then gives a look that has Cup wondering if this is really something he can joke away, he leans up and pops a kiss right on the tip of his nose. Then another on his cheek, his good hand coming to pull him into the one he places right on the corner of his mouth, "I mean it, Dice, I'll wear gloves from now on, just don't be mad. Or sad. Don't make that face anymore, it's breaking my heart."

"You better wear good gloves, and you too Mug!"

"Yessir!"

....................................................................................................................................................................................

That night, Dice re-bandages the wound. It looks slightly swollen, but thats to be expected. Cup grunts as he applies the cream, and he really wishes he could take the pain away faster than the paltry little pills the medic has sent them off with. He relaxes into the pillows and Dice surrounds him, quiet.

"I'll be more careful."

He can feel him nod, but the silence remains.

"Dice?"

"I don't like you getting hurt. It worries me to see you hurt, you aren't invincible, you know."

He can guess what he's getting at, and sits up, "Hey now, don't talk like that. It was an accident, I'll be more careful from now on, and if I do get hurt then I'll let you get in some good 'I told you so's", he smiles and presses kisses along his cheeks, "If I recall correctly, you get busted up frequently yourself."

"Splitting my knuckles fighting some punk is not the same."

"Oh no? You hurt and bleed all the same, Dice."

Silence again, and then a sigh.

"Alright, then I'll be more careful as well. But the next time I catch you without a glove on you're sleeping on the couch with your pills and smelly ointment."

"You would never."

"I really wouldn't."

And as they settle down for the night, slowly slipping into slumber, Dice eyes his hand. The then peeps at his own, scarred knuckles and lithe fingers that only he knows have been broken and reset and hidden from Cup as they healed. 

"Cup."

"Mmm?", the pills have taken affect, he sounds so sleepy and far away.

"I'll be more careful too."

"Good.", he pushes his lips against his in a feeble kiss, "Thats all I want, my Dice, safe and sound."

Thats all he wants too, safe and sound. Here, in his arms, safe and sound.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my wonderful readers! I hope that you have a wonderful time with the ones that you love and the ones that love you, and a happy New Year as well. I know I say it a lot but the fact that you all read and enjoy these stories has really made my year! I love hearing what you guys like in my writing and that you are excited when I update, and all of this wouldn't be possible without your support.
> 
> Thank you and I hope you enjoy these fluffy, tooth rotting stories!

_**Christmas Cookies** _

 

A simple jar: blue with little white snowflakes, reindeer, and polar bears going round and round. Its the best jar in the house, always containing something good to snack on: candies from the mainland, honey sticks fresh from Rumor's best harvest, barley twists and mints. The only time that the jar went from fantastic to heaven sent, was during the holidays. If there was something the cup brothers did better than landscaping and saving souls from the devil himself, it was baking cookies.

If surprised was a color, Dice would be it.

Either way, as Cuphead and Mugman slip into the kitchen to assist Elder Kettle with something, Dice and Cala find themselves eyeing the jar. 

"Do you know what they made this year?"

"I haven't checked. Its gonna be good no matter what."

They slip the lid off, and the smell of peanut butter wafts up between them.

"Oh Gods,", Cala practially moans, "They're buckeyes. Cuphead is trying to kill us."

He's never had, or heard of buckeyes, but the smell of peanut butter is enough to make him pick one up and bite into it. Peanut butter cookie balls dipped in chocolate, the chocolate melts away and leaves him with the cookie, and peanut butter.

"....."

"Well?"

"I'm going to marry this man."

...................................................................................................................................

**_Decorating_ **

They gather around the tree and sling garlands around the branches before selecting ornaments to hang. They laugh and tell the stories behind the ornaments that are more than a little beat up or eccentric.

"This paper boat was the first thing that Cuphead ever built on his own, and then it kinda became tradition to make a boat every year."

"This one is Mugs, he made a pack of salt dough cookies and didn't know that they harden up like rocks for decoration, so before we could break all our teeth we decided to hang em on the tree."

"First wrench."

"These are from the mainland and they just look nice."

"Is that a dried flower?", Dice points to a rose in a glass droplet with a small seashell beside it.

"Yes, the first flower Mugs gave me.", Cala plucks his straw gently, "And a shell that I used to leave on the dock for him to leave notes under."

"Shucks~"

Dice eyes the ornament and feels a slight twang of jealousy, he sweeps it under the rug as fast as it arrives, they don't have ornaments but that doesn't mean they never will. 

"This one is you and Cup's."

He looks up, and there in Elder Kettle's hands is a small ornament. He recognizes it as a card, but in place of the suit type, theres a purple and white die on one corner and a little teacup on the other.

"Cuphead."

"You didn't know about the tradition yet, so I figured I'd start ours."

..................................................................................................................................

**_Scary Ghost Stories_ **

"Okay,", Cala spins the radio dial and silences the crooning of Bing Cherise, "Why is that part of the Christmas carol?"

They all eye her curiously, waiting for explanation.

"He says 'There will be caroling out in the snow, there'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long long ago'.", she leans back in her chair and sips her eggnog, "You don't tell ghost stories on Christmas, do you?"

"A Christmas Carol has ghosts in it."

"Then he should have said we will tell the one."

"Why  _do_ they suggest we tell scary ghost stories? Once upon a time not long ago some evil spirit haunted the tree and told us to uphold the holidays or it would choke us? They do say it has to be scary, too!", Mugman sits back in his chair and frowns.

"Whats scary about Christmas?"

"Behave or Krampus will get you.", Elder Kettle breathes in a puff of smoke from his pipe, the mist swirling up and dispersing into the air, "Take you to the mines and make you work until your hands bleed and your feet swell."

"Beware Pere Fouettard, if you are bad he will whip you with his cane until you bleed and repent.", Cala suggests.

"Beware the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame and teeth that catch.", Cup whispers.

"That is  _not_ a Christmas entity."

"Well what  _other_ terrifying Christmas entities do you know, Dice, cuz I am all ears."

 

 

Dice eyes them all in turn before leaning forward, "I know of one."

"Lets hear it!", Mug raises his glass.

"Please, Dice!"

"Alright alright.", he gestures for the room to silence, "This happened to me when I was young, my parents insist it was an old wives tale, but I know better."

Once, when I was just a small die, I stayed with my Grandparents over the holidays.

My mom and pop had to visit relatives far away, and they were happy to take care of me until they returned.

That Christmas, my grandfather offered to take me into the forest to cut down a Christmas tree for the house. I agreed to go and threw on my new coat.

Thank God for that coat.

We headed out into the forest, looking at the trees there and searching for the perfect one. When we found it, my grandfather discovered that he had forgotten his axe in the yard in our haste.

I said I would go back and get it for him, marking the path with stones that I had collected for my rock collection on the way.

They shone in the light, and I traveled down the path of our steps, headed towards our house in the distance.

The forest was dark, blocking out most light, and as I walk I stumbled and fell, but this was nothing to concern myself with.

I could see the house light, a faint yellow light in the distance, and I sped up.

I got closer and closer, and as I began to run to the light it got closer and closer to me, faster and faster.

I stopped, because I was sure all the bouncing over rough ground was making me dizzy, the light seemed to be moving with me.

I was not dizzy, the light continued to bounce closer and closer, growing larger and larger, brighter, and was joined by another.

The crashing of leaves and sticks that I was so deaf to earlier seemed to get louder and louder as the lights got closer.

I stood still, I waited, and I wondered what I would do when the light caught up with me.

Eventually the noises stopped, the lights towered above me, and I could see the massive body they were attached to.

It grinned down at me, and suddenly I could only think of how Alice must have been stoic girl, for the cheshire cat grin it sported terrified me to my core.

A cat the size of a barn, with eyes of flame and a mouth like a cave. It leaned down and seemed to bore a hole into my very soul. 

Then, as if by some miracle, it straightened up and left, bounding away behind me.

I stood there for a moment or two, and then another crashing noise through the forest.

My grandfather caught up with me, he eyed me standing there, shaking like a leaf.

"Boy, weren't you headed to the house for the axe."

"Grandfather, lets get a tree closer to the house.", I suggested, "The forest scares me today."

He didn't protest, because at the very suggestion that we go back and get the tree I went paler than before.

When we returned with the tree, my grandmother asked just what had happened to keep us so long, and why I was so beat up and shaken up

I told her of the cat, and she remained quiet.

That night, as I wobbled down the hall to their bedroom for fear of sleeping alone, I noticed my Grandmother asleep in the armchair, a book heavy and wide open on her lap.

Something told me to read, something else told me to go to bed.

I read.

"Jólakötturinn, the Yule Cat. Devours people who have not been given new clothes for the holiday season. Icelandic."

Part of me says it was a fever dream, another part of me knows it was not. 

They're all quiet. 

"That was.... Not as terrifying as it could have been."

"Yeah."

"Its all I've got."

Elder Kettle remains silent, and eyes the bag just under the tree full of new mittens and scarfs for everyone, "Well, at least we know we won't be eaten."

"How do you figure that?"

"A hunch."

......................................................................................................................................

**_Mistletoe_ **

 It hangs over the doorframe, a bunch of white berries and dark olive leaves.

He eyes it with a small smile, and nudges Dice to look as well. He see it, he smiles, and pulls him to the side.

"You don't need the plant to have me kiss you."

"I know. Its tradition."

"A good tradition."

They share a quick meeting, Dice kissing along his cheeks and his temples for good measure.

......................................................................................................................................

_**Pass The Parcel** _

The music plays and they pass the large ball in a circle until its stopped, tearing away the paper.

A pair of mittens

A scarf

A bowtie

Candy

More Candy

An orange -they laugh uproarously at how battered it is now-

A small cinnamon broom

A pair of knit socks

An ornament

Candy

Candy

A card

5 gold coins

A poinsetta in resin

Candy

And lastly, candies from the mainland.

They divvy the spoils and exchange the inevitable gifts that ended up in the wrong hands.

They laugh and the music plays louder now.

......................................................................................................................................

  _ **Cocoa**_

Dice has brought it from the mainland while shopping for the casino.

Disks of chocolate tempered with cream, a large marshmallow stamped in the center. They steam milk and drop them in, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at how it swirls the drink into a chocolatey brew.

The first sip proves its gorgeous, rich and so wonderfully sweet.

It also leaves mustaches that rival Dice's. 

"You should grow one", Cala teases Mug before kissing the foam away.

"The moment you see the scraggly mess that comes before any facial hair I get you'll shave it in my sleep."

Cup wipes his away before Dice can see it.

"I thought for a moment you were styling it."

"No!"

......................................................................................................................................

_**Good Night** _

They all wish Elder Kettle a good night as he goes. He insists he has other people to see before it gets too late. They bundle him up and wave goodbye and goodnight. He makes it to the next house safely.

They eye eachother, they should get going.

Should.

"Its cold outside."

"... Yes."

"Stay."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Its like an early gift."

"... Alright."

......................................................................................................................................

_**Merry Christmas** _

Sunlight filters through the snow, reminding him of the last time they stayed the night.

They wake up slowly, lingering in the beds to share kisses and whisper.

In a flurry of pajamas and wrapping paper they start the fire and heat cocoa and start breakfast.

Elder Kettle reappears soon, and he has brought round simple home pleasures: apple butter, cloud bread, and chestnuts.

They open gifts and laugh and eat, its a picture of tranquility.

Dice leans into Cup silently, a whisper on his breath, "I want to be able to call you mine by next Christmas."

Cup stills before leaning into him, "That would be an amazing gift."

"It will be, won't it?"

"You spoiled it though."

"I never said WHEN we'd do it."

"... Touché."

They link hands, and look over the scene of gifts opened and breakfast eaten.

"Thank you."

"For what."

"For this, for you."

Cup smiles and leans into him, "You're family, Dice. It wouldn't be Christmas without you."

"To family!", Cala raises her glass.

"To family!", mugs clink together and they return to passing round gifts and making plans to see coworkers and relatives as the snow swirls outside and the candlelight twinkles round them.

......................................................................................................................................


	11. Chapter 11

_**Hands** _

Cuphead's hands are regularly a source of fascination for King Dice.

Calloused along his palms and ghosted with scars from past jobs, nails short and maybe a bit bitten at when he's thinking of plans.

His hands do everything from fixing car parts to gardening, lifting timber and cutting it and planting hedges and peonies. He braces ladders and lays cement and bricks and solders and welds.

His hands also roll out the best cookies in Inkwell, deal cards for a game of tonks, and hold his hands so gently that if he didn't look down from time to time he couldn't be sure Cup was still there.

His hands also push him to the mattress and wring moans from his lips, they curl around his wrists and hold him still, they cup his face as he begs for release and dig into his pips to make him sing like a bird...

He smiles and strokes his thumb over his knuckles, across his ring.

He loves his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Suit_ **

He tries not to flinch as the pins go into the fabric beside his ribs, he can feel the thin cool metal touching him lightly and tries his hardest not to jump. Pirouletta is gentle, turning him so she can see how the suit hangs after the adjustments, eyeing him from head to toe as she picks up different colored fabrics for the vest beneath. They decide that the champagne fabric would look good with a tie the color of currants, and that the coat should have tails like a dress would have a train. 

Pirouletta creates the best costumes in the casino, years of sewing tutus for ballerinas and jazz dancers gives her the most delicate seams and detail, Cup is almost envious of how she transforms the suit with just a few pins and some fabric tape. She will sew it later and set is aside, assuring its hidden from Dice.

"There, all done with the pins. Take a look." 

He turns to the mirror, and smiles. The fabric is gorgeous, with filigree that shifts as he moves, the tie makes the whole thing pop.

"I love it."

"Its not to tight? Too loose?"

He shifts his arms and moves his legs in dancing formations that Dice has run through with him for the past month, "Its perfect."

"Good!", she picks up the sewing basket to put away the various articles she's taken out, "I'll let you get changed and then hang up the suit."

"Piro."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you, for everything."

From the suit alterations, to the heels he plans to wear, to the supplemental dance lessons. She's been there.

"You're welcome."

"How much do I owe you?"

"A dance at the wedding, and a tin of spritz cookies."

"Deal."

 


	13. Chapter 13

_**Starting Together** _

The night practically glimmers with promise: the promise of something new, something amazing, something different.

All the same, but different.

They have spent the day making black and white cookies, black eyed peas, and blackcurrant syrup for the champagne. Everyone is busy with resolutions they know they won't keep past January, but its nice to proclaim and try.

As it grows darker and the ticking of the clock makes them anxious, they crowd outside and Cala brings the radio along. Elder Kettle adjusting the knob and antenna furiously brings smiles to their faces as they begin to hear the sounds of the world converging, holding their breath for this moment.

Universal.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The radio crackles in the background, describing the streamers and lights of the Mainland's New Years Eve Celebration. They play the Auld Lang Synge and they can hear the fireworks bursting and raining down outside.

He isn't sure if the kiss was planned, or if he or Dice started it. Either way, its sweet with champagne and black and white cookies, Dices hands grasp his and he feels a smile creeping across his lips.

They can hear Cala and Mug chiming into the song, Elder Kettle is telling them all to take a mouthful of black eyed peas for good luck in the new year. They smile, and avoid the spoon for a few more moments.

"Wow."

"Wow indeed."

"Happy new year, Dice."

"Happy new year, Cup."

They smile, leaning into eachother for another kiss before turning and taking spoonfuls of the peas, savory and toothsome. They smile and join in the singing, hands clasped tightly.

They aren't sure what the new year will bring, but they know they will be together.

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

_**Scrap Paper** _

He sits at his desk, tired and more than a bit bored with the lengthy paperwork before him. Running a casino, through all the glitz and games was a lengthy process, and when the papers rolled in for signatures and evaluations they came in thick.

He stalls before leaning back in his chair and stretching, grimacing at the pops he hears.

They clock in the corner says its midnight, he thinks one more hour and he can knock out this paper and have the next week practically free.

He doesnt think he will try his luck and state that aloud, instead deciding that a small break wouldn't hurt.

A small break for what? Not a smoke, he doesnt feel like one, not a drink, what?

He eyes a piece of scrap paper on his desk, pulls it over and starts scribbling. He's no Picasso, nor Rembrant, he just wants something to do. He stars with spirals, clockwise, counter clockwise, circles, circles within the circles.

He then makes simple things: a duck with bread and water that looks more like the edge of a scallop than anything else, a tree for it to sit under that looks like it may topple any moment, clouds, a sun with a smiley face.

A house on a hill. He laughs at how rickety it would look if he could pick the drawing up and will it into being.

He adds a fence, a dog, a cat, a mouse for good measure.

Then he draws a stick figure. Simple, rudimentary. He gives it a crown.

 _Subtle_ , he thinks.

He draws a smaller figure, and gives that one a straw.

 _Subtle_ as a dumpster fire.

He makes them hold hands.

He stares at it, before getting so hot in the face and flustered he folds it up and stuffs it in his shirt pocket before grabbing another piece and sketching a quick square.

A scientist would call it a punnet square, used to guess traits in things like peas and birds and plants and bugs and livestock.

And... children.

What if they had children?

He knew it wasn't possible for them to just have them the regular way but there were ways: adoption, magic, who knew what else.

Besides, what WOULD their child look like? This metaphorical child. Doesn't everyone ask themself this question at least once?

He marks one side DDSS, for square dice and the other CCPp for porcelain cup. He isn't sure if porcelain is a dominant trait for cups but he doesnt see many of them. He sketches a few more traits: tall and short, black eyes or green, white and red or purple and white.

After working the squares he isn't sure he wants to see this child, and wonders if the squares are wrong or just the right medium to make the stuff of nightmares.

He throws the paper away and grabs another.

Last one, he thinks, and then its back to work.

He writes his train of though, and my what a train it is. Filled with word bubbles of interjection and arrows to secondary points. He writes what he feels and thinks and knows. He hopes it doesnt sound foolish, he hopes he can make sense of it in the morning. The paper gets a quickly written title and he folds it up, stuffing it in his shirt pocket alongside the drawing.

Back to work.  
........................................................................

Not much else to do late on a Saturday as Cup visits Dice, they fold laundry and watch tv.

"Did you check your shirt before washing this?"

"No, was there somethin' in it."

"It was folded so tight it didnt even get messed up!", Cup opens the first paper and Dice can see the drawings. He quickly grabs the second and stuffs it away.

" Dice! Is this us?"

" And a duck."

" You big softie!"

" Dont say that so loud!"

Cup goes back to the pocket for the second paper and is surprised to find it not there.

"I threw it away, it was an old receipt."

" Ah."

They're quiet. Dice goes back to folding. Silence for a minute or two as a western plays in the background.

"They're vows."

Cup pauses, "Huh?"

"That paper. They were vows.", he puts a vest in a pile of things to hang up, "I thought I'd write some."

".....You're gonna make me cry."

He looks up to make sure that Cup isn't crying just then, and is glad to see he's not. He smiles coyly and leans over, pacing a kiss on his cheek, "I'll be right there, I won't let you cry alone." He smiles and presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth, his nose, right above his eyes along his rim. "That's the point. We're doing this together."

"I'm going to CRY.", he chuckles, and leans in to plant kisses of his own, "You're going to write something amazing and I'm not going to stop crying for the next year."

"My what a long cry, you'll dehydrate!"

"You know what I mean!"

He smiles, and though he doesn't say it, he's sure Cup knows.

He's bound to cry a little, too.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Dream a Little Dream of Me** _

_This is a dream_.

He knows he's dreaming but this is all too real for him.

Dice stands at the alter waiting for him, a smile and an outstretched hand. He is aware of people other than Dice around him, but Dice is what has him walking oh so slowly down that aisle.

He smiles too, brightly, and he can feel himself beginning to cry.

 _This is a dream_.

He pouts, he doesn't want to wake from it. If he does, he wants to wake into the real life version of it. All gossamer and flowers.

Speaking of, he's never SEEN so many peonies, even as a landscaper. They are everywhere, pale white and pink and blushing. They scent the air gently, and he realizes the smell is the bouquet he carries. Peonies and skeleton flowers, with one big red bloom in the middle.

He smiles and tries to walk faster, his feet feeling heavier than before.

Dice chuckles and gestures him along.

He's trying, he gets there so slowly hes almost worried hes agitating the guests. The world seems to spin as he tries to calm himself enough to even greet Dice.

"Iloveyou", the words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them.

"I love you too, Cuppy."

" I'mgonnapassout."

"No, Cuppy.", he stretches out a leg and gently taps the inner arch of his foot. "Unlock your knees."

He relaxes, and for a moment the whirling stops. He gasps for air as the guests (and now he sees that their faces and forms are all ambiguous and hidden) chuckle at his nervousness.

 _This is a dream_.

He turns to see the priest is taller than he looked from far away, perhaps as Cup and Dice conversed he has grown? He looks up to see who he is and his height seems to spike once again, he is tall enough that his face is obscured by the ceiling of peonies.

His voice reaches them as clear and resolute as if he was whispering to them.

" **Do you love him?** "

"More than anything.", he wishes he could convey these words better.

" **What will you give me for him?** "

_What?_

_This is a dream_.

He scrambles, he checks his pockets he turns to the peony-ceiling preist and stammers pathetically, "I-I haven't got anything with me but I'll give you anything you like, only marry us."

" **Payment in advance**."

He searches the hall, the vacant faces of his faceless guests, won't somebody hand him something?

"I'll give you... I'll give... Please, I don't have anything right now!"

" **You have clothing**.", his voice is now stern, " **Shoes**."

"I gladly give them to you."

And in almost no-time they are gone from him. He stands in his underclothes. Thank goodness.

" **This is not enough**."

"I have nothing left."

" **Your ring**."

He looks to Dice and he smiles, sadly, and Cup flinches.

_This is a dream_

"Why do I have to pay for him?", he pipes up, "He loves me, too! Isn't that enough?"

" **Do you believe it to be enough?** "

"It's enough to me,", he looks at Dice sadly, "Its always been enough to me. He's mine and I'm his and that's enough."

" **Good**."

The priest begins to descend, at least thats what it looks like- he is so VERY tall now. He seems to bed at the middle of his chest to come down to meet them.

Cup wishes he hadn't come down. His face is indescribable, like something you see in a fever dream. He eyes them with something between benevolence and hatred.

Cuphead hopes theres more former than latter.

" **It is enough**."

As if they were waiting for this signal, the peonies drop from the ceiling and cover them in a sea of white and pink petals.

" **Take care, something is about to happen!** "

 _This is a dream_.

The peonies block his vision like snowfall in a blizzard, he frowns and coughs as petals whisk past, "WHAT!?"

He feels Dice's hands leave his own and for a moment panics as he is lost in a sea of petals.

" Dice!? DICE!? KINGSLEY!?"

" _CUPHEAD_!"  
.........................................................

He sits up with a jolt, gasping. He is aware of a sheen of sweat over his body that chills to the air the moment the covers fall from his shoulders.

He is in bed, he is awake. he is safe.

Dice eyes him worridly, "Whats the matter? You we're screaming!"

"You left me at the alter... sort of.", he doesn't have a better description for it, you were swallowed by peonies while a preist told me love was enough to buy you? That sounds crazy.

Like a dream.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't leave me for real! You don't have to apologize."

He shuffles closer and lays down, "It was just a dream."

"Well... alright.", he lays down and kisses his forehead gently, "I won't leave you at the alter for anything."

"Dice?"

"Mmhmm?"

"No peonies,", he yawns, "Not a single peony is to be at the wedding."

"Alright."

"And no strange priests."

"Of course."

"Good."

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

_Cake Tasting_

Dice stumbles into his apartment, sight marred by boxes upon boxes as he clears the countertop for them. He frowns at the stack of boxes and wonders how they're going to do this.

He is brought out of his train of thought by the sound of footsteps behind him, hands slipping around his waist and he automatically leans into the offered kiss.

"I thought you were getting a sampler?", Cup eyes the top box, the clear cellophane of the box showing several small cakes of close color range with little notes stuck in them.

"This is the sampler."

"Six boxes?"

" She insisted.", and she did, Baroness Von Bon Bon didn't become a baroness and the sole heiress to a baking fortune by bring timid. If he really wanted to, he could have said she demanded she take all the flavors they offered.

"So... how many doubles?"

"Theres two of each flavor, and 8 shots of frostings we can choose from."

"We're gonna be sick."

"I'll get us some water.  
.........................................................................

34 flavors.

He thinks he might be sick if he tastes fondant again, so the mark he puts next to it on the trial sheet is a tad rougher than it needs to be.

"Cuppy."

"Its gross and tastes like a mouthful of baby powder and if I see it I won't eat."

"Its what she has to make the ribbons out of."

 _Ugh_. He crosses out the mark and puts a frown. "Better?"

"Sure, now, which ones are your favorite?"

He eyes the paper, eyes the list of flavors that went from the mundane to the unpronouncable and looks at his marks. There are different layers and fillings and combinations, so many it really makes his hear whirl, and then there are ones Bon Bon has underlined.

The "reccomended" flavors, extravagant triple layered cakes with varying colors and fillings to the familiar three layer choices.

"I like tiramisu, filled white chocolate, and red velvet. Those are my favorites but I could be wiggled into liking the Italian rum."

"I like the Italian rum too."

"What else, though?"

"The peanut butter feuilletine is my favorite, but thats the peanut butter talking."

It is, Cup eyes the two wrappers next to him, he got a bite and ultimately gave it up to Dice after seeing his face light up with joy.

"But, I like the rum and the mill shortbread torte. The filled vanilla was good, too. That could be it."

"Filled vanilla for the bigger teirs, the top one could be the rum? Or."

"Or?"

"Peanut butter."

"We can do the rum."

"I like the white chocolate, I'm getting my favorite. You can have the peanut butter for the top."

"I won't stop you.", he grins.

"That's because you know I'm right.", he makes some marks on the ordering sheet, flavors and their respective fillings and frostings.

"So. Now, we pick a design."

"Scalloped."

"That was easy. Topper?"

"Shouldnt we... buy or make one?"

"A photo in a frame works. Surrounded by a bouquet. Simple... easy.", his voice droops. Doesn't fade, droops, like someone remembering they have to work tomorrow when they've just made plans.

Cup sits up and eyes Dice. It takes a few minuets for him to notice Cups stare.

".. What is it?"

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He eyes him, maybe it was his own mind hearing something he hadn't heard in a long time. Something that had made his hands shake and his stomach flip and his words come rattling over his teeth before he could arrange them well.

"... I love you.", he says it like its a serious declaration, and it is, but this time there is an ounce of worry for what could be hiding behind that 'I'm fine".

" I love you too, Cuppy."

Nothing.

Must have been nothing. He smiles, afraid to prod in case it really was nothing, "Lets finish this up and relax."

"Eating cake wasn't relaxing?"

"It was until we got to that nasty one. What was it called?"

"After-Dinner mint?"

"Disgusting.", he makes a strikethrough of it on his tester sheet, "After dinner toothpaste is more like it."

Dice chuckles and hes sure it was nothing. The boxes get tossed, the order sheet gets tacked up on the cork board for tomorrow, and they decide that maybe some real food is the way to go.

As they slice veggies and meats and talk, Cup listens to him, listens for the 'nothing' he heard before. Nothing, he doesnt hear it again. Perhaps it was just his imagination.

Dice is smiling with him, laughing with him, and holding his hand and laughing harder at the fact that somehow Cup has made an extra slice of carrot into a ace of spades.

"...I love you, Dice."

"I love you too, Cuppy."


	17. Chapter 17

_Flowers_

His job offers him a unique insight into flowers, and Dice is more than happy to follow his lead, handing him the reigns as he takes on the finding of a preist.

He pours over bulb catalogues, visits greenhouses and florists, even consults his own greenhouse.

He ends up at a library, thumbing through books on flowers and their meanings, from giving them to receiving them to using them in arrangements and-

Dreams.

He pauses, his heart fluttering in something he wants to call curiosity. He's been at this for hours, marking down flowers he knows and flowers he would like to see before making a decision, and perhaps a quick break wouldn't hurt.

He sets down his pen and devotes his attention to the section about dreams.

"Poppies... Primrose... Petunias.... Peonies!"

"SHH!", the librarian, a grizzly old inkwell (Which he remembers jokingly pointing out to her as he entered the building, only for her to stare him down as he quickly found a seat) glares at him.

"Sorry, sorry."

_Peonies: A symbol of modesty and shyness. Color greatly determines what the flower can mean. Red is mainly for romance, showing a deep seated love shared between the dreamer and someone, as well as honor, respect, and prosperity._

_Paler colors, such as white and pale pink denote an apology. Someone will have to apologize to you very soon._

_An apology?_

He leans back: who could have to apologize to him?

The only one that comes to mind is the preist, and even though he intimidated Cup to no end in his dream he didn't hurt him.

The Devil? All these years and he still hadn't really apologized for the whole "soul" thing. But then again, he was the devil, to apologize for something that was more or less his job?

He runs through everyone.

Elder Kettle? No. Mugman? No?? Not that he knew of. Cala? No. Definitely not. Dice? No, he hasn't done anything worthy of making an apology, none of them have.

Perhaps... it was him?

"WE'RE CLOSING."

He jumps, leaning forward in his chair, startled. The librarian has come to his table, her stern voice breaking him out of his train of thought. She eyes him with a look of barely restrained displeasure, and he closes the book and quickly puts it on the cart for returns behind him.

"Sorry, have a nice night.", he grabs his papers and heads for the door. She says something to the effect of "You too" (or something to the effect of giving the bird, if he was more imaginative and she was more crass), either way its gone in that moment.

_Have I done something?_

He walks to the florists with the sheet of flowers, and they look pleased to see him. They regularly trade bulbs and discuss the best methods for landscaping and fostering blooms, but today is the first time he comes strictly casual.

_Have I upset someone?_

The florist eyes the paper while he offers ideas, and soon they come up with ideas for boutonerres, bouquets, and centerpieces. After the back and forth, Cup is glad the venue will deal with placement and decor with the florist, only using Dice and himself for sparknotes and inspiration.

This was tiring.

_Was he making someone upset now?_

"Lotsa meaning in these blooms, Cuphead.", the florist, a dahlia named Eden, smiles as he arranges a quick test bouquet for Cup to take home and show Dice, "S'gonna be pretty, though!"

"He means a lot to me, I wan't him to know that."

"I can see it in ya eyes, ya love him.", he stops and frowns at the blooms already in the vase before going to tilt some to the left and add a cluster of smaller accents, "When ya working and he comes in ya light up like a magnolia in may."

He smiles, "That obvious, huh?"

"Yup, but hows he doing with all this?"

"Hes fine, I think we're just so ready for this to happen.", he smiles, "The planning is so tedious."

"Hmm, no cold feet then?"

_Cold feet?_

"He aint nervous, you aint nervous?"

"I.... I think he was before.", and he _was_ , he remembers sitting on his bed with Dice's hand in his own, talking about how Dice thought that this would ultimately end with them going separate ways. "I'll ask him."

"Don't let Eden worry you none!", the second florist, a trowel headed girl named Silvette, appears with a bundle of ferns for decoration, "He asks that to every couple. Makes sure we aint wastin' flowers, even tho' I told 'im it ain't polite!"

She smacks his shoulder and he groans, picking up loose fern leaves and arranging them like the rays of the sun around the lip of the vase.

"Oh, dammit Eden, you scared me!"

"Like that man got cold feet, if anything he got hot ones, the third date y'all had he rolled up in here like a cat outta a bag, asking what flowers you like and what would best say "I like you a lot".", he snorts, "You two got smthn bout flower meanings."

"It'll be a family tradition."

"Oooh, family?~", Silvette looks up from a well timed and aptly named bouquet of babies breath.

"Cool it, we don't want kids."

"Poo!"

"Alright! Whaddya think?"

The bouquet itself is lovely, large, and cascading down the sides of the vase, swaying in the breeze. Its gorgeous.

"Acacia blossoms for chaste love, forget-me-nots for true love, gardenias to say you're lovely, viscaria to ask for a dance, and maidenhair ferns for the secret bond of love.", Eden sticks a tiny placard on a holder and slips it in the center of the flowers, "A big ol vase of I'm yours, Dice-man."

"It looks great!"

"Good!",he wraps a simple ribbon around the vase before handing it to Cuphead, "Show em to Dice, we'll get in touch with the venue and then we can start planning to fill the space!"

"Stellar. How much do I owe you?"

"Get outta here, Cuppy!", Silvette is practically shoving him out the door now, " Test bouquets 're on the house!"

"You put this in the tip jar then!"  
.............................................................................

"They look amazing! You pick em out?"

"After some research."

"They mean something?"

"Its long winded."

"I have all the time in the world~."

Cup goes over each flower, his hands pointing to blooms and tilting them gently, Dice is attentive up until the viscarias, his hands slipping around Cup's waist to ask him the very thing the flowers do.

"Dance with me?", he whispers, a slow step to the bedroom revealing he wants to do more than dance. He smiles, and Cup finds himself smiling too.

"Yes."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Preist** _

When was the last time he set foot in a church?

Right before he began working at the casino, he remembers walking with a rosary clasped between his fingers as thought he hadn't neglected the old thing for the past three months. He had stumbled up the steps and wondered, worried, that if he set foot in the building -unfamiliar and smelling of candle wax and old parchment and communion wine and poinsettias long dead- he would burst into flames.

He hadn't then, he hoped he would not now.

The building itself is massive and imposing, seeming to shoot into the sky but somehow loom over him like a vulture, or a teacher who has seen you lean over your desk to peek at another's paper. He feels his hands go clammy and hears his mothers voice.

_"Dicey, when you go to Inkwell, keep the covenant!"_

When she had pestered and prodded and all-around mothered him into telling her what he did for a living, she had promised to slap his head off his shoulders in the church, so everyone could watch.

And then she had calmed down, as much as she could have. He was working for the Devil. Satan. Lucifer. She still gave him that look, that glare, that pity glance until the day where she was too tired to do it anymore.

He feels his stomach flip flop.

The steps to the door make him stumble -or is it the weight of the idea that the building will sear him like sirloin?- and the door proves massive and heavy. He yanks at it, and it makes the creaking, splintering, sucking noise of a door not often opened before swinging to him.

The lobby- what else could it be called, a foyer, a wait room? Did God use wait rooms?- sparkles in the light of slightly dusty windows. There are little notices tacked up on corkboard, and a hideously shriveled poinsettia in a gold-paper lined pot.

He steps in. No burning. No sizzle. No pain.

The door slams shut behind him as he lets go of the knob, heavy and loud. He winces, if there is a service right now he has disrupted it, and for a moment considers waiting until Cuphead can come with him.

No noise from the cathedral. He takes a gulp of air and walks.

Its a nice church, to some the large windows would marvel the towering stained glass or the ornate carvings on the ends of the pews. The pulpit is at the head, covered in candles and choir books. An ancient piano sits there, and for a moment his fingers twitch with the urge to play-

_"You loved playing for the church, Kingsley!"_

_"I did, mama, but now-"_

_"I know I know, just... Don't let that casino ruin you, please."_

Ruin him. Has it ruined him? It has changed him. He remembers playing piano for the church and even singing in the choir stand, he remembers it fondly.

Only now, with work being... work, he doesn't go.

_"You could still get out. Meet a nice girl, or fella, and make something of yourself."_

_"Mama, I promise, I like working at the casino. I just don't do the less savory stuff."_

_" The souls. You still see it happen, Kingsley."_

_" I always give them a tell, mama, I always tell them to leave, to quit. They don't listen."_

_"...."_

_"Sin is sin, mama, I try to help them as much as I can but-"_

_" Don't become them, Kingsley_."

He jolts out of his reverie as suddenly as he fell in it when he hears footsteps echoing through the building. How long has he been standing here, thinking about his mother chiding him? Worrying for him?

He brushes it off and sits in one of the pews, and eyes his watch. The preist he is supposed to be meeting should be here in 15 minutes.

He will be early, he concludes, as he hears the footsteps quicken.

"......late, late late. Do I even have all my papers? Good gracious!", a voice joins the footsteps, muffled by a door.

He takes the time to eye a heavy bible before him, its gold script winking at him through the ebony cover. Its well loved, leafed through and dog eared, and looks like it would be heavy in his hands like a small stone.

"Kingsley Dice?"

He stands, his hands clasped before him in a gesture so practiced, humble, and demure. He means it, right now he feels quite.... how should he feel? He swallows thickly before speaking.

"Father Cronos?"

Now the name makes sense. He looks over the preist and he cannot tell if he is old or young, from looks or voice. He is a grandfather clock, but far from being a grandfather by any standards. His face, backed with inlaid ivory is split into four smaller sections: the large clockface you are used two, two small side meters, and something he can only assume counts moons or days.

All his dials whirr and tick, his chime gentle tinkles too, adding a quality to his voice that made Dice choose him in the first place.

His voice carries, loud but kind, imposing but not violently so. He sounds like the voice of God, at least, as close as Dice could get.

"You're early."

" As are you."

"Thats the great pleasure of being a clock, you are always on time.", he walks down the steps, dark uniform contrasting the lighter oak surrounding his head, "So, marriage."

"Yes.

"A bit unorthodox.", he thumbs over papers Dice has given him, "Neither of you are catholic."

"I used to be.", he wonders if that is right to say, "We have a large venue and need someone who's voice can carry. My fiancee's grandfather-"

"Elder Kettle."

"Yes, he told me that you would be the best choice."

He stops flipping papers and sits up straight, eyeing Dice in a way that he is not sure he likes.

" You work in the Devil's Casino."

Shit. "Yessir."

"Does he know?"

"Yes."

He nods, and then flips to another page.

"The Devil can't marry you two?"

He laughs, and the sound is so LOUD in the church he almost wants to hide, he disguises the rest of it as a cough.

"Not in any way I know of. And the ones they write about or show in movies aren't really a family affair."

The joke apparently makes its mark, the preist smiles... he thinks.

"Alright, enough chit chat, lets discuss the procession."  
........................................................................

Hours go by, planning and talking and talking about Cuphead and his relationship.

"You sound enamoured with him.", Father Cronos remarks offhandedly.

"I love him. More than anything. He's changed a lot about me, about the casino."

"No more souls?"

" Not unless a person offers it the usual way.", he shrugs, "People rarely walk in wanting to take up the cloth with the Devil."

"Hmm, thats some comfort, not much, but some.", he stands, "I think we are done for the day, though I would like to meet with your fiance as well."

Dice stands, and is surprised to see a hand offered to him, he takes it, firmly, "We'll be back. He wants to speak with you as well. He has something about making sure the priest isn't strange."

"Strange?"

"Got me.", he shrugs, "I doubt you're strange enough to chase him off."  
........................................................................

The next time he stands before the church door, he isn't as worried. They pass the heavy old door, the shrinking poinsettia, and the pews. Cup remarks how calming it is, and he has to agree.

Now, at least.

But the calm leaves the moment Father Cronos appears.

 _"D i c e!",_ he hisses, his fingers tightening in his hand.

"What?"

 _"Dice!"_ , he looks pale, even for porcelain, _"Thats the priest from my dream!"_

He stops, his dream? The dream that had him yelling?

"Hes very nice, I promise."

"I didn't say he wasnt, but the moment he asks for something for me to have you-"

"We donate to the church so he will marry us. He has to ask."

".... If he asks for clothes then we L E A V E."

Dice rolls his eyes, asking for clothes? They step forward in unison, like the group in the Wizard of OZ.

"You must be Cuphead, Hello Dice.", he extends his hand and Cup shakes it aprehensively, " How are you."

"Fine."

"I dreamed about you."

Subtle, Dice wonders if he should elbow him.

"Really? Perhaps its the lords work.", he smiles, and Cup smiles back, nervously, "Was it a good dream?"

"You were too tall to see, covered in flowers, and you told me I had to pay for him to marry him.", he admits, "And when you bent down, your face..."

"...Yes?"

"It was incomprehensible. I couldn't describe it."

"When I'm in a mood my face may move faster, it may have been that."

Cup nods, seeming content with this. Dice grips his shoulder and gives a comforting smile.

"Lets have confession."

"Confession?"

Father Cronos nods, sitting them down, " I should say, its more like soul pouring. Confession is an easier term.", he clasps their hands togethter, "I want you two to pour your souls to eachother, right now. Any fears or concerns about your relationship or wedding should be brought up, so that you can work through them before I marry you."

"Thats unorthodox."

"It works."

They eye eachother, and Cup rubs his knuckles. They're quiet, the sound of Father Cronos' chimes tinkling softly in his chest and his clock hands tick tick ticking away.

"I'm sorry.", Cup blurts.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I think I've upset you. These past few days you've been... Droopy.", Cup is quiet as he says this, "I don't know what I did, but I'm ready to fix it."

"You haven't done anything. I'm not upset, I haven't been droopy? Have I?"

"At first I didn't think so, but sometimes you look like your heasitating, or like you want to stop the world and just calm down. Are we going too fast?"

"6 years of dating and 3 months of intensity planning? Is too fast?"

"Is it?"

"Not to me.", he brings his hands to his mouth and plants kisses along his knuckles, "Not to me. I want this. I want you."

"Good. Just... I was getting scared."

"Well don't. We're doing this, if you want to."

" I do."

They fall silent, smiling, and Cup looks like someone has removed a weight from his shoulders. Its nice, silence, and security.

"Good. I like to see a couple interact like this, lets me know they're serious.", Father Cronos leans on his elbows, "Lets get hitched."

 


	19. Chapter 19

_**Bachelor Party** _

The Casino, since opening its doors many many many years ago, has never closed.

But tonight, as his right hand man and best friend celebrates before his wedding, the Devil makes an exception.

And even with the doors closed for the night, the building still has a jump to it.

The music swings, the taps seem to constantly flow with beer and bottles tip with gin and whiskey, the tables have games going that would look baffling to the untrained eye or the regular patron.

Its a whirlwind of drinking and smoking and cards: they cheat and laugh and make merry.

Devil has the upper hand here, unable to become drunk even with the most unrepentant liquors. He slings a lanky arm around Dice's shoulders and grins, "You drunk yet?"

" Nope, tipsy.", he grins back. the venomous smile of someone who knows they'll be beyond tipsy when the moment is ripe, "They're bout to bust out the personal moonshine thought."

He points to the tipsy troope, and he can see them breaking into a crate that has an olive painted on the side. They remove jars of liquid that look impossibly clear and they get handed round the room to fill the tiniest shot glasses they've ever seen.

"Whats the brew name this time, Whiskey?"

"Scuppernong."

Everyone pauses then, looking down at the brew in the glass no bigger than a novelty thimble. Scuppernong in the Isles was usually a wine, sweet with berries and honey and deep red. In Hell,  and maybe some private circles in the woods, Scuppernong was a hellish thing. Known to put even the strongest of drinkers on their ass for an hour straight and make the next morning feel like a prison iron clamped around your skull.

Dev eyes Dice out of the corner of his eye, and Dice glances back.

"Just one."

"One won't hurt. It'll make you giggle like a schoolgirl in a bathroom but you'll be alright."

Dev takes the mason jar to the head and Dice has to stop himself from screaming.  
..........................................................................

The Isle is alive with music tonight, under the light of lanterns and fireflies. Music lilts through the air as the party comes to full swing.

"TO CUPHEAD AND DICE, MAY THEY FIND HAPPINESS AND LOVE AS THEY ENTER THEIR UNION!", Mugman lifts his glass above his head and nods to his brother with a smile like a grand piano.

"HERE HERE!"

Glasses clink together as the Isle's residents toast the man of the hour, loud and clear in the night over the music and laughter.

He mingles, talking with guests and even getting stolen away by Cala and Mug to dance and talk and play the lawn games littered about.

"Hows Dice's party going?", Cala asks, as she sinks a yard dart into a target.

"I'm sure hes having fun.", he lines up his shot and the dart hits home, "Whiskey said he was brining something called? Scuppernong? Sent some this way too."

He points to a crate on the side, marked with an olive and full of clear jars.

"Im afraid to drink it.", he smiles, "Dice says it's good though."

"... Lets do it.", she grins and runs to select a jar.  
..........................................................................

He isn't sure when the front doors got thrown open and the crowd stormed in, but its happened and they're here now and good LORD the NOISE.

They had just begun a hand of black jack and now they were draped in drunk Isle residents. Eyes loopy, lips droopy. laughs loud and flighty.

He shoves his way through the throng of alcohol drenched people, finally spotting a very blissed out looking Mugman.

"MUG!", he practically has to shriek to be heard, but the fact that Beppi has stepped on his foot helps.

Mug turns and waves at him with what is singlehandedly the dumbest grin hes ever seen. He whisks himself over and cannot help laughing when he sees the man is missing a shoe and his straw is not blue and white but green and white. He didn't know they kept extras in other colors.

"What happened!?!", he is chortling now, and Mug joins him.

"Cala got into Whiskeys gift, so I think we all did.", he nods with the blissful slowness of someone after a dose of morphine, "We all had a few pints."

"A few _pints_? Of wha-.", he pales, "Oh God y'all are gonna kill Whiskey tomorrow. Oh my God you didn't!"

"Sip sip, hehe!", he slaps Dice's back hard enough to jostle a cough from him, "Ah, Cups here, somewheres~"

That gets his attention. Usually Cup makes a beeline to him but if hes had more than two shots of Scuppernong...

He weaves his way through the crowd, avoiding them now getting into games and more drink, the last thing they needed. He supposes he better thank his lucky stars they aren't angry drunks.

"DICE!", Devil grabs him by the collar, a stark contrast to the chummy way he had been draping an arm over his shoulder during their earlier toast, "WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING? "

"They got into some Scuppernong, they're not far gone enough to be dangerous but they're-", he pauses as Werner climbs onto the stage with Sally and begins what can only be descibed as a drunken do-see-do, "....Drunk."

"If they break anything-"

"What posessed them to come here in the first place? Cup was supposed to be having a party in Ink-"

"Diiiiiiiii Diiiiiiii~", a voice like cream is interrupted by a cliche hiccup, and the pair turns to see Cuphead, with a ridiculous curly straw in his head.

How many kinds of straws did they keep? Was it a party thing? A tradition in their family?

"Diiiice, hi!", he drapes himself over Dice with a grin, "Dice, we had-"

"Scuppernong. I can tell.", he shakes his head, "How much did you all have?"

"Pint each."

"Good God, you're all wild animals.", the Devil eyes them all with no small amount of distaste, "Dice theyre going to have the hangover from hell tomorrow. Thats hilarious."

"Its not, but okay."

"Dicey~ How was your party?"

"Fine, love, you're crashing it right now.", he laughs at the shock crossing Cup's face.

"ARE WE REALLY!?"

"Yes."

"IM SO SORRY DICE, I JUST SAID I WANTED TO SEE YOU AND I GUESS EVERYONE FOLLOWED ME."

"Shhh, you're yelling.", he grabs a chair and sits down, pulling Cup into one beside him, "Everyone needs to start eating and drinking water. Or in about... 8 hours they're going to wish they were dead."  
..........................................................................

The parties merged, the drunks getting their sobriety back slowly but surely, hot food and ice water abound. The games still run smoothly, and its arguably better together.

"What do you put in that garbage?", Cup glares at the mason jar across the table, as if it has personally insulted him.

"You start with vodka and gin, then add in citrus slices and maraschino cherries, then triple sec and-"

"NONE OF THAT IS CLEAR WHAT DO YOU ADD TO THIS TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN YOU DEMON!", Cala is more than a little embarrassed that she also joined Werner and Sally on the stage for their little dance number.

The discussion -or rather, shouting match- fades into the background as Cup focuses on nursing a pint glass of water and a piece of cake. Its helping clear his head a bit, but the embarrassment remains.

"Sorry we all crashed the party."

"You're fine, it was fun seeing you all come in like a pack of Tasmanian devils.", he laughs and steals a stripe of filling, "It was fun."

" How bad of a hangover can I expect tomorrow."

"You are going to hate every sound you've ever heard and want the sun to burn out immediatly."

"Outstanding."

"I'll be there with you, I doubt the casino will be open tomorrow."

"Good. Sorry."

"No more apologizing."

"Yessir~"


	20. Chapter 20

_**Hangover** _

Cuphead doesn't wake up. Rather, he is snatched from slumber and slammed into something he can only describe as pure, grating, unadulterated _agony_.

The world is screaming around him, the building coming down around his ears. He opens his eyes to see what on earth that noise could be, and the world is so bright and full of obnoxious colors he isn't sure if he is slow re-closing his eyelids or if they have fallen clean off.

Some devil has replaced the inside of his mouth with sandpaper, and to add insult to injury they removed his saliva glands too, apparently. He moves his jaw to try and generate anything to wet his whistle and the very sound of movement makes him whine in agony.

"-head?"

Oh, thank God, Dice.

But, simultaneously, Good God, _Dice_.

He doesn't remember him being so loud. With a whine he drags sluggish arms up to cover his eyes and lets out the single most pathetic noise he's ever heard. He can feel tears on his cheeks and can't remember if and when he started crying.

"Dice, help me. I. am. _DYING_."

No reply. Perhaps Dice is dying as well? Or maybe the noise he let out earlier chased him off.

"Shh, I told you. You hate everything, don't you?"

He doesn't reply, opting instead to whimper once more and wrap his arms tight enough around his eyes to make spots dance before his sight dizzyingly. He can feel bile rising up his throat and after a battle with his esophagus that could rival barfight, he wills it down again.

"Kill me."

"No.", he feels the bed move and Dice's footsteps leaving the room, "Im going to get you some water and some medicine. What greasy breakfast food do you want."

"I want to beat Whiskeys ass."

"Im sure you'd win, now what food?"

"French toast and bacon."

He doesn't hear anything beyond the now constant screaming of the world, and assumes Dice has left. He is tempted to sit up, but the slightest movement of his torso has his stomach gurgling violently. He gives up and accepts his fate.

"Here."

He opens his eyes, and who knew that eyelids made a sound good _**LORD**_ , and eyes his love like an angel of mercy. A glass of ice water and two little pills.

"I love you."

"I love you too, now open.", he places the pills on his tongue and tilts the glass for him to take sips, which quickly become gulps before he can pull the glass away.

"You're going to vomit if you keep that up."

"Water."

"Slowly."

Soon the glass empties, much slower, and Dice returns to the kitchen to cook. The world slowly, very slowly, stops whirling, and Cup opens his eyes in the tightest squint he can manage and sees that the whirling, horrific noise was the fan.

"Feeling better?"

" Barely.", he lets Dice pull him up gently, ignoring how his body rebukes him for moving, " What happened last night?"

"You drank enough Scuppernong for 17 people and then crashed my Bachelor party with your whole party. They drank as much as well, and I can only imagine that they're three times as miserable as you."

"... Oh god."

"Mm-hm.", he sets the plate across his lap and reclines next to him with his own, "You fell into my lap and apologized for bringing all of Inkwell to me, then begged me to marry you. I said I was yours and you started crying because I was talking to Mugman before you and you assumed that I was getting married to him instead."

He grows silent, "Im sorry."

"It was funny, made the night better. But now you have to deal with your hangover till noon."

"Why aren't you hungover?"

He reaches over and cuts the thick slabs of sweet toast and bacon on Cup's plate, "Because I know what Scuppernong is and how to avoid DYING from it. I had one shot then immediately called it quits."

"Ugh, I'll never have it again. You had to have ended up this way at least once."

"My 21st birthday. I woke up covered in my own sick and screaming for someone to take my head off and cradle it.", he smiles, "You woke up more elegantly that me, at least."

"I didn't puke?"

" I never said that."

"... I'm sorry."

He leans and kisses his forehead, " You made it to the bathroom, don't apologize, you were surprisingly agile. Now eat your breakfast."

With that, Cup realizes just how hungry he is, his stomach growling lowly. The toast crunches delightfully under his fork, and the bacon proves toothsome.

" I love you."

"I love you too."

" Im going to kill Whiskey."

"Don't kill my employees, please."


	21. Chapter 21

_**Before** _

As they awake, unrushed and with nowhere to go for several hours,

"Lets just.. stay."

" Mmhm.", Cuphead sidles closer to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders with the tiniest yawn hes ever heard, "Ok."

He can feel his eyelids getting heavy again, his breathing evening out and a smile creeping over his lips. He drags his hands up his sides, tangling them in the blanket and pulling it along, making Cup sigh into the spreading warmth.

"...You won't see me again until the wedding when I leave.", Cup tilts his head and plants a heated few kisses on his chin, "Think you can handle that?"

"Can you handle that? Gonna sneak out and see me? Scuppernong man."

He grins, remembering the last time he "snuck out" to see Dice. "I think I can handle it. Its barely a full day of being away."

"Still, I'll miss you.", he places a kiss atop his forehead, "You haven't even shown me your tux-"

"Grooms don't see dresses, why would I show you my tux?"

"- How will I know its you? Aren't you trading out your straw too?"

"As if you wouldn't know it was me. I'll be the one in white."

Dice smiles, moving closer and pressing loving kisses along his face, his hands roaming in gentle circles. Cups hands find the dips along his shoulder blades. They stay like this, together, gentle, tumbling this way and that with kisses and gentle touches, the blankets tangling around their legs and waists.

Light peeps in the blinds, casting their shadows gently along eachother, making them slightly sleepy.

Time flies, almost like the day is rushing for them to be together. They eventually get up, dressing. He is very aware of Cup throwing together an overnight bag of his supplies for tomorrow, and makes a point of stealing kisses often.

"Im not leaving forever!"

"I know."

"Coulda fooled me!", he nips at his lip, his hand grasping his shirt, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

The car ride to the forest of Inkwell is quiet, with Cup looking down at their intertwined fingers and Dice resisting stopping just to spend time.

"Well, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

"It feels like this isn't happening. Like its not real?"

"Because its been a long time coming. We'll be wound up like 2 stir crazy fools around midnight."

"... I hope so, right now I feel like I'm going crazy.", he eyes the looming forest, "Like I can't sit still."

"Nerves?"

"No, just, excited."

"Good.", he smiles, bringing his hand up to plant a sweet kiss on his knuckles.

They arrive quickly, and are swept up in a flurry of Mugman and Cala rushing out to greet them. Bags transferred inside, and plans to meet at the venue double and triple checked, they relax for a short while.

Time flies too quickly, and soon its time for Dice to leave.

"T'morrow.", Cup grabs his hand gently, a smile sleepily creeping across his face.

"Tomorrow."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He leans, and steals a kiss that has him reeling, his hands drawing the same circles along his back as this morning.

"Get a room!", Mug barks from the living room, interrupting Cala's good natured wolf whistles.

"After tomorrow thats the goal!"

One last smile, a few last minute kisses, and Dice is out the door, Cup watching his tail lights fade into the distance like the dying embers of a fire.

"Tomorrow.", he says it like a prayer, "Tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some filler, the next two chapters are the wedding, but they will take some time to write and I do have a plan of when I'm going to post them. I want to make sure they are spectacularly written~
> 
> Thank you for reading, and staying with this story for so long~


	22. Chapter 22

_**Together pt. 1** _

 " _You won't see me again until the wedding.", Cuphead fiddles with one of his cufflinks absentmindedly as he places a kiss atop his head, "Last chance to tell me no and head for the hills."_

_"I don't think so.", Cup leans into the kiss and smiles, "I can't wait to be Mr. Kingsley Dice."_

_"Kingsley and Cuphead Dice."_

_"That'll be us. Together. Forever and always."_

_Together._

_He wraps his hands around his waist and leans in, close, gentle, smelling of bergamot and musk and the champagne they shared with the wedding party just a few moments earlier. They stare at each other, as if they will never look upon one another again, searching for something to see. Something, but they cannot be sure of what._

_"Stay, just an hour longer."_

_"I can't sleep here.", he smiles and leans up for another kiss, champagne muddling their minds, " I better go to my room."_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too,", another kiss, deep and slow and achingly full of need, "I'll see you tomorrow. I promise."_

_"I promise to see you, too."_

_He stands, and after a few more kisses, desperate and deep and loving, Cup heads down the hall of the venue's farmhouse and to his bedroom. Dice waits for the clack of the door shutting, and heads to bed._

_They have hours, not even a full day, left._

_He lays down and tries to quiet the butterflies in his stomach. He settles on counting himself to sleep._

_One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi..._

_...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

The next morning bathes the Gardens of Inkwell in a light almost ethereal, glistening off the dew covered grass like diamonds scattered on a bed of emerald and casting long shadows over the rolling grounds. 

Theres a calming, almost peaceful silence, from the large converted greenhouse that would soon serve as the venue, to the farmhouse they just slept in. The hallways remain empty, save for the passes of shadows and light, like old friends, dancing across doors and walls. Below, converted from a single kitchen and living area into a ballroom and dining hall, the farmhouse is serene, beautiful.

Still and silent.

It's not long before the calm is shattered by the call of an alarm clock, shattering the silence with a metallic, tinny shriek. 

Its silenced quickly, but soon other noises take its place: the sounds of yawning and feet hitting the floor, of running water and shuffling clothing. Everyone is awake, moving, and preparing. Soon, even the greenhouse is bustling with activity: the florists and planners, and even some of the casino staff lend a helping hand. The greenhouse has long ago been converted to a charming space: with oak floors and new glass panels. They set to work, hanging flowers and tulle and lanterns, laying out programs and decor, doing quick run-throughs of positioning and progression.

Quickly, steadily, everything falls into place.

  _...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

 _"_ Morning!" 

A cheerful, velvety voice: Cala. Cuphead turns over in the bed with a yawn fit to take his head off his shoulders, distorting his return of greeting.

" Ready for this?", Mugman slips in alongside Cala, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing his brother a small mug of coffee. 

" Ready.", he takes the coffee and almost groans at the warmth seeping through his fingers, "Thanks. Whats happening downstairs?"

"They're doing last minute things. The Greenhouse is all dolled up, it looks so sweet!", Cala sets a tray on the bedside table: warm buttered toast, eggs, bacon, and fruit, " We were gonna have breakfast with you downstairs but if Dice sees you thats bad luck."

"If he sees the bride thats bad luck, but I'm not a bride."

"Still, tradition."

The breakfast gets divided amongst them as they discuss hoe best to proceed.

" We got time. Its still pretty early. Dice is getting ready with his boys.", Cala grins, "They were pretty loud as we walked by."

_...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

"I'm going crazy."

" Shouldn't you have said that ages ago? When this all started?", Chips eyes him sarcastically, "Its crazy to think y'all even dated without stranglin' eachother."

"I'm going crazy because this is taking so long. And then at 4 o clock my whole world is going to slam by so fast it'll probably kill me.", he takes a shaky sip of champagne, "And I want it to hurry up."

"50 bucks you puke and pass out.", Mangosteen is immediately slapped from the counter by Wheezy for his cheeky comment.

" You're gonna do fine. You work for the Devil, you can do a wedding."

He looks down into the flute of bubbling liquid. He stares back at himself, the ripples shaking his reflection side to side so violently that he worries he is actually shaking that hard.

" I hope so."

  _...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

Perhaps "I want it to hurry up" wasn't the best choice of words.

After an hour of brunching -and being relentlessly but good naturedly teased and betting on whether hed pass out or puke first- the phone rings.

"I got it, sit.", he slips into the nook created by the island and places the reciever to his head, "Nyello?"

"I love you. I love you so much."

His heart slams in his chest, and he grins, "I love you, too. Nervous?"

"Giddy. It's exciting."

He grips the phone tighter, feeling his stomach alight with butterflies that he wills down into the soles of his shoes, "They're betting I'll pass out before I puke."

"Cala thinks I'll just go into shock and die, so be glad they have such faith that you'll survive.", he can hear her in the background then, sounding exasperated, "Sorry, she says I'll just go into shock, and take a DIVE. I misheard."

"Anyway. What are you doing?", he places a shushing finger to his lips as he hears his guests get rowdy behind him.

"WHATS HE WEARING!?", Hopus shouts from a card chair that he now wishes would collapse right out from under him. They snicker at his glare and begin to make the standard noises of a house party gone wrong: requests for alcohol and opiates, moans and a convincing policeman impression by Wheezy.

He fails to wave them silent and just pretends not to hear.

"Sorry, we're pre-gaming here. Rude."

"Its fine, tell 'em hello. We're getting dressed, slowly but surely."

"I will. Ready for this?"

"With every inch of me. You?"

"Of course~", he grips the reciever tightly, almost as if it could keep the conversation between them, make the words carry weight, "I love you."

"I love you too, see you soon."

A gentle clack.

He smiles and hangs up the phone, fingers lingering on the handle before he turns to see some piano sized grins.

"What?"

" You looooove him, boss~", they bat their lashes at him jokingly or mime kissing, and he snorts derisively at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Shut up you damn fools, lets get ready."

__...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._ _

 Within a few hours, everyone is rushing to get ready.

The once empty ballroom now has tables arranged around a wide dance floor, glistening with gossamer and cascading with flowers. As Dice and his entourage pass through to head to the greenhouse for the ceremony, they stop to ooh and aah at the decorations. Everything looks so, gentle. Before he can really take in anything that he shouldn't -and wouldn't you just know, Von Bon Bon's messenger boys were just running to and fro with some boxes like a cosmic tease- they're pushing him out the door and towards the greenhouse.

"Ready to pass out?", Mango grins up at him slyly, "You got approximately 15 minutes before he's walking in here and then you're his problem forever."

_Problem?_

He knows Mango means is jokingly, but the word sticks out in his mind like a peony in a desert.  _Problem_. He smiles back and shakes his head, practically making the word rattle around his skull. He's so focused on their banter -and that word- that he almost runs straight into the oak panel doors of the Greenhouse. 

"See? He's fine, so in love he thinks hes invincible against doors!", Wheezy claps his shoulder and grabs the doorhandle, swinging it open, "You open it first, Dice."

"Sorry, lost in thought."

They slip into the space almost silently, and stop to marvel at how much the place has changed. It was beautiful the moment Cuphead had shown it to him: glistening with light filtered by big glass panels, the smell of oak and pine wafting around sweetened by the acacia blossoms Cup chose. Speaking of the flowers, they seemed to rain down from the ceiling like soft stalactites, pierced only by lanterns made of glass. Inside each one, a few fireflies could be seen, seated in arguably the best seats in the house. His gaze drifts downwards, and suddenly he is lost in a sea of turned, expectant faces: Isle residents, Casino staff, the priest, the Devil standing beside the priest and looking somewhat vexed.

Odd, but then again, it was a priest. With a heavy bible. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He slowly starts to walk down, following his friends, stopping here and there for scattered congratulations and well wishes by those who voice them. He smiles, he admits he is a little nervous, yes it is a lovely venue thank you, I like your hat I like your suit, thank you, thank you, thank you, no it was easy to plan with barely any-

 _Problems_.

He swallows around a lump in his throat as he thinks on that word again. Nods and excuses himself to the Priest's side. 

"Kingsley."

"Father Cronos."

"Dice."

"Hey, Boss."

The Devil, looking more than a little relieved to have someone to speak to besides the priest, gladly takes his hand and gives a congratulatory shake, "I can't believe you're doing this. Thought I'd see the walls of that Casino crumble with a trumpet blast before you ever tied a noose around anyone's finger."

 _Noose_.  _Problem_.

_Jokes, Kingsley, lighten up._

He grins, "Theres time for everything to change, to grow."

"Well said,", the Priest looks at The Devil out of the corner of his eyes, "Even those who think they have hit their lowest point can change for the better, we were just discussing that."

"Just because I gave you some spark notes on what happened before I fell doesn't mean you'll convert me Catholic, Clock-face." 

Dice waits for something akin to the exorcisms he heard about in stories, for the priest to take out a cross and start chanting in Latin -he certainly looked intimidating enough to do something like that, banish the Devil- but Father Cronos laughs good-naturedly and the conversation goes no further. He shakes his head and takes his place in the order, looking out over a sea of friends and once foes.

Everyone really does look quite nice. Dressed in dark washes and creams to stay within their theme, some have programs unfolded and others fan themselves with their own. He's glad to see that, that the heat isn't just his nerves getting to him. His eyes sweep over to a row of seats just to the left of the aisle and there are his other coworkers. They grin up at him, some waving vigorously to catch his eye, others mouthing things to him.

_Nervous? Scared? Don't lock your knees!_

He chuckles and nods.

More of the party are starting to file in, Mugman comes and stands on the opposite side of the Priest with a tiny wave he returns. When he leans to ask where Cup is, Mug taps his wrist as if to signal a clock. They're early. Cup must still be getting ready. 

 

It seems to take forever, just waiting and listening to the soft music seeping out from a record player he can't locate the position of. He chats with the Devil., Mugman, and his groomsmen, until Mango gives Chips a sly grin and whispers something.

" _50 bucks he passes out. He's looking green."_

Was he? He didn't feel green, or lightheaded. A little hot, a little nervous, but certainly not-

_Problematic._

In a moment, barely more than a breath, he is aware of everything. The sound of everyone in the greenhouse, the sound of the preist beside him flipping through his bible, the brightness of the lanterns and the eyes watching him.

Waiting.

His stomach turns over and over, he gasps for breaths that he can't seem to catch, and his palms turn clammy. He casts a desperate glance to Mugman, and watches as he goes from a smile to an apprehensive frown.

He tries to calm down, to maybe think about something else. Not how out of place he is, how nervous he is, how the suddenly deep digging anxiety of doing something wrong rushed to the forefront of his mind.

His stomach makes another flip, and he is sure he's going to be sick. He bites his tongue to keep it down, gulping around a mouthful of saliva and air that feels too hot and sluggish to breathe.

"I.. I need a minute. Just.. hang on."

He isn't sure how he made it halfway down the aisle so quickly, but he has, his hands hitting the door and suddenly hes out. Into open air, away from the noise and the lights. Still, he hears the room burst into conversation, hears some inquire after him as he walks away, to find somewhere quiet. 

Somewhere away from prying eyes. Away from his thoughts. 

His legs take him to the gravel lined parking space, the pebbles crunching under his shoes as he tries to focus. Its only then that he realizes how far hes gone, how it must look.

He stalls, and gasps. He is in the middle of the grounds, with two ways he could possibly go. 

The greenhouse... or... not the greenhouse. Away.

He stops, bites his lip, and breaks into a run.


	23. Chapter 23

_Together pt. 2_

Alone.

After hours and hours of running about and making sure things were right and avoiding Dice because of tradition and wondering where his shoes were or where he head was and if he was alright and if he was sure and being asked this and that and the other, Cuphead was alone. 

Weddings were more exhausting as they happened, he decided. The planning, though stressful as they did it, now seemed like it went by with all the ease of a dream. 

He eyes the cleaning bag concealing his suit, and stands. Time to get dressed. He goes for the silk tie of his robe-

And then theres a knock at the door.

"Cala, I'm fine I just wanted some time-"

"Cuphead."

He pauses, there is no way he heard that right. Dice was supposed to be in the Greenhouse next to the Priest and the Devil, and he  _was_ , according to Cala's last report. Yet, his voice just called him from the other side of the door. He thinks on tradition for two seconds, and then tosses it out the window: they were a cup and a dice getting married in a greenhouse with Satan and a clergy member presiding over them.

Damn tradition.

He grips the door handle and swings it open, and there stands Kingsley Dice himself. He looks the most stressed that Cuphead has ever seen him, and flushed like he's been, running?

Running. 

Oh God.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you really want to get married to me? Today. Right now?", he's out of breath and looks like he might break under pressure. Is this what, no, he needn't question it,  _this_ is definitely what he heard all those weeks ago. The uncertainty, the worry, the concern. In his minds eye, he is reminded of one of the first nights Dice ever spent in their small house, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting him trace his hands so so long ago.

_"I always assumed you'd get bored and move on.", he tries to explain himself and hates how he isn't sure what to say next, "I assumed you'd find someone else."_

_"I don't want anyone else, King."_

He grabs his hand and pulls him into the room, closing the door behind him. For a moment they're quiet, just quiet. He has to admit that this is definitely not something he'd expect, Dice is usually so calm and steady, that seeing him more than a little ruffled is almost upsetting, shocking even. Right now he looks like his world may shatter.

"Dice, I-"

"I don't want to be a problem. I don't want you to be trapped with me."

"WHERE is this coming from?", he grips his hand tighter, "You're not a problem, I am not stuck! I love you!"

"I love you too, thats why I'm making sure."

"I want to get married to you, Kingsley Dice. I want to spend my life with you.", he steps forward, just a bit closer, "I promise that if I was unhappy I would say something. But I'm not unhappy. Are you?"

"I'm happy, Cuphead.", he takes a step as well, closer, their torsos almost touch, "I'm happy with you. I love you."

"Good. Kiss me."

Its sweet and deep and, God, maybe he needed this to be sure. To erase all doubt and uncertainty. He can feel Cup's hands travelling up his arms and around his shoulders and his chest pressing into him and smell the cologne on him and feel him breathing and he is calm. He's steady and sure. Its blissful, just kissing, gentle and soft and loving and washing away the words, the fear, the worries.

"You weren't supposed to see me yet.", Cup purrs around his kiss bruised lips, "But I'm glad you came up."

"Me too. It was stupid. I may or may not have run out of the Greenhouse."

"Dice!"

"In my defense I was pretty sure I was going to vomit with anxiety."

Another kiss takes them over, and Dice is suddenly very aware that he would never find another person who loved him enough to continue kissing him after he had admitted even  _thinking_ about being sick, his arms circling Cuphead's waist and pulling him closer. He gets lost in him, his scent his touch his lips, and that intoxicating little smile Cup gives in the middle of really good kisses. 

He gets lost in the love.

So lost, in fact, he doesn't hear the footsteps slamming up the stairs, nor the door slamming open violently to reveal Cala and Wheezy.

"DICE RAN AND WE CAN'T FIND HI-Oh."

Cup pulls away, laughing, "Real subtle guys, way to let me down easy."

"Ya'll in here kissing like two highschoolers when you're supposed to be getting married!?", Wheezy is billowing smoke, and Dice shrugs, not sure he can even make a good argument for himself when he's still a little fogged from the kiss, "Wow. Amazing. Dice, get your ass downstairs. Mango thinks he made you crack."

Cup eyes Wheezy, and then Dice. Both shake their heads. Its a story for later, right now they have bigger fish to fry.

"I'll see you in a few minutes. Promise?"

"Promise."

........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The Greenhouse is abuzz with whispers and questions when they make it back down. Everyone seems relieved to see the supposed wayward groom walk down and take his rightful place again. 

"Mango almost shit himself.", The Devil grins conspiratorially at the 8 ball who suddenly looked like he wanted to be somewhere else, "Thought he sent you into a panic attack."

"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction."

They chuckle, but the laughter is short lived as the record player is turned off, apparently only used for background music as they waited for everyone to find their places. Taking the records place, Canon in D begins, sweetly crooned by a violin and a piano in harmony. Dice barely has time to wonder where the instruments and their maestros are hiding before he spots Pip and Dot to his left, making the sweet music flow out over the hall together. 

The crowd turns to see the procession begin. Cala walks down, a bouquet of acacia blossoms striking against her champagne dress, she smiles and shoots a wink to Dice as she takes her place on the left side of Father Cronos, followed by Mugman in a dapper suit, and then Silvette. They settle in next to each other, chuckling as bouquets are adjusted and Mugman is stealthily asked about his bouquet before the music suddenly crescendos. 

Everyone turns, Dice finds himself with a lump in his throat, but this time, it isn't so terrifying. 

There, in the doorway, charming oohs and aahs from the collected friends and family is Elder Kettle, hand in hand with Cuphead.

He's glad that he didn't see the tuxedo until now. Pirouletta did a fantastic job.

Its cream, just a tad lighter than the bridesmaid dresses, with white filigree spiraling over his arms and down his back, so finely and meticulously stitched that the eye finds more and more to look at as he moves closer. The coattail is longer, almost mimicking a bridal train, but not quite touching the floor, it seems to be more ornate than the suit front, as many of the guests that they have already passed seem awed by it. Cuphead himself looks stunning, and maybe a little teary as Elder Kettle whispers a word or two between them, his eyes are done up in subtle makeup, his smile is bright and sweet, and his head...

Dice smiles, to replace a veil, champagne bubbles cascade just before his eyes. His red and white straw has been switched out for a simple black one, adding contrast. 

He chokes on what he would later swear was a breath in the wrong direction, but knows is a cheerful sob.

They stop just before the altar, and the music finishes with a last lingering note. He smiles, and has to stop himself from stepping down to grab Cup's hand, and Cup even stumbles on a quick step towards him. A chuckle throughout. Father Cronos nods, and starts the ceremony, voice as clear as the chime of a bell 

 

" Thank you to the friends and family that are here today to celebrate the union of Cuphead and Kingsley. This occasion not only marks the beginning of their marriage commitment together, but it is a commemoration of the love nurtured and shared between these two. Together, they embark today on a new life together, built on the foundations of trust, compassion, and mutual respect.

"Who gives this man to be wed?", Father Cronos gestures to Cuphead regally, his voice soft yet strong.

"I do.", and with that, Elder Kettle places a kiss on Cuphead's Cheek and steps up with him, putting his hand in Dice's. He retreats to a set just off to Cup's side of the altar, the smile of a proud father on his face. Cuphead smiles up at him, and as he returns the look, the champagne in his head burbles quietly, surging forward like the first couple of kisses they shared.

" _Hey.",_ he whispers, and he can see some tears just waiting to be shed.

" _Hey_.", a deft whisper back, and he can hear a slight crack in his voice. He grips his hands tighter and nods to Father Cronos to continue.

" Marriage is an ancient human tradition. The personal and social merits that accompany the bonds of marriage have led to its continued endurance and have paved the way for us to be standing here before the Universe celebrating the union between these two people today. Marriage is, truly, a magical gift.", the Priest pauses, and looks about the room, from the couple in front of him to the gathered witnesses, "As we celebrate this bond of unity today it is important that we keep in mind that, while this is certainly an occasion of tremendous joy, the promises we witness here today are serious and life-altering commitments."

"If there is anyone in attendance who has cause to believe that this couple should not be joined in marriage, you may speak now or forever hold your peace."

There is a moment of stark, nervous silence. Though they know that no one has anything to object to, nor would they dare, its still a nerve wracking moment of time. The silence remains, and Father Cronos smiles.

"It is with simultaneous feelings of elation and expressions of respect that we proceed.", he opens his arms, almost seeming to welcome everyone to lean closer, to listen as the proceedings take place."

Cuphead smiles at him, his thumbs brushing over his knuckles to-and-fro. As he smiles, a tear slips down his cheek, and Dice raises a hand to wipe it away.

"Don't cry."

"They're good tears. I promise."

Theres a low awe, and he chuckles as two more slip down his face, Father Cronos continues.

"At this time, before proceeding with the bonding ceremony, I would invite the couple to share their vows. Cuphead, would you please deliver yours first?"

Cuphead smiles, and his hands grip just a tad tighter, "Today I take you as my husband. As I stand here before you, looking into your eyes, i see all the things I fell in love with. Every laugh we shared, every time we made it though together, and I can only say how excited, how elated I am to spend the rest of my life with you. Today I give you myself, heart and soul, and I can only say that I wish that I could give you more. I give you everything I am today as I stand before you. I promise to love-", and here he hiccups, a hand leaving to wipe his eyes and wave away the awe that comes with it, "I promise to love you, protect you, be with you forever, for all eternity, till death do us part. I promise to cherish every moment we share. I love you, Kinglsey."

He pulls his handkerchief out of his suit pocket and hands it to Cuphead, biting his lip to keep his own tears from making an appearance. He can't stop them forever though and one slips right down.

"Aw, jeeze."

This brings a chuckle from everyone present as he fishes a small piece of paper form his pocket. Cup recognizes it straightaway, and waits to finally hear what could possibly be on this sheet of paper that had survived a wash and dry and countless re-foldings, revisions, and additions.

"And now Kingsley, would you deliver your vows?", Father Cronos prompts.

"I thought about things that I would want to say to you, that I would want to tell you when I finally had the chance and the audience. Things I could say to prove just how much I love you and how much I want you in my life. There aren't enough words for it, so I'l work with what I have. I love you. I'll never be able to say it enough, but I will certainly try, I love you because of who you are. Because you bring so much light and laughter and happiness and hope into my life. When we first met-"

The crowd chuckles then, and they find themselves laughing a bit too. It was an unorthodox meeting, to be sure.

"When we first met, I wasn't certain of where this would lead. When we confessed, I was sure I knew how this would go, and I am glad to say I was wrong."

Cup grips his hand and they smile, sweetly. The few moments before the ceremony come rushing back, the worry, the kisses, how they felt then and now.

"I've never been so happy to be wrong in my entire life. I love you, Cuphead, and I am proud, and irrevocably humbled to stand before you today and promise you. I promise to be here for you, to love and support you, to be not only your husband, but your best friend, your protector, your counselor, your lover, and your true love. Its the least I can do, as you became all these things and more to me. I am overjoyed to know that after today, I will call you my husband. I love you, Cuphead."

Cuphead was right, Dice made him cry. He is glad for the earlier gift of his handkerchief as he hastily wipes tears away. Dice grips his hand, intertwining their fingers, a smile on his lips. When he's somewhat collected again -and some of the guests have stopped sniffling as well-, the ceremony goes on.

"Cuphead and Kingsley please remove your gloves and join hands."

This is it, they slip off their ever present gloves and clasp hands for what seems to be the hundredth time that day, but this time, all the more intimate. Glove removal was a way to show there was no concealment, a connection shared between two who sought to become one in the eyes of all gathered. Its like a live wire, a connection, the palms of their hands warm, lithe fingers resting ever so gently. Dice eyes the scar where Cup cut himself on the gardening shears, and Cup finds himself tracing the faint lines of long healed cuts on Dice's knuckles. They're loving motions, slow and sweet.

"Cuphead, do you take Kingsley as your cherished husband, in front of these witnesses, and promise to stay by him side through sickness and health, joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Kingsley, will you take Cuphead as your cherished husband, in front of these witnesses, and promise to stay by him side through sickness and health, joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?" 

"I do."

Two words, steadfast like bricks laid in mortar, they make this all the more real as they continue staring into each other's eyes, seemingly at a loss for words. The intense looks stop as Father Cronos lifts high above them two gold bands, previously handed to him by Dice for this moment. They glitter in the lantern-light, and he can feel the air in the Greenhouse go still as everyone listens intently for the second set of words they've been waiting to hear all day.

"The wedding rings perfectly symbolize the never-ending love you two have for each other. By exchanging these rings, you solidify a lifelong commitment to one another. The rings serve as a welcome and constant reminder of the bond you've formed with your partner. Please repeat after me."

"I, Cuphead, give you, Kingsley this ring as a symbol of my enduring love. Just as the circle of the ring completes itself, so you complete me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"I, Kingsley, give you, Cuphead this ring as a symbol of my enduring love. Just as the circle of the ring completes itself, so you complete me. With this ring, I thee wed."

The rings slip on easily, settling into place as though they were always meant for this moment. They smile, hands lightly shaking. In this moment, everything seems to be rushing by, whirring by and exchanged in steady glances and bated breath: confessing, first dates, first kisses, Christmas, engagement. Their smiles, their laughter, some arguments, the making up, the love making, the kisses, every I love you and I miss you and endearment they shared. 

Culminating in one moment. Bated breath and shaking hands and the eyes of Inkwell watching them.

"Cuphead and Kingsley, by the power vested in me by the Church and The Inkwell Isles, I am pleased to pronounce you husband and husband, sealed together today both in law and in love,", Father Cronos clasps his hands and, with a kind smile, bids them their signal, "You may seal your union with a kiss."

Not one to be told twice, Cuphead leans up -God bless those heels, they came in handy for more than just dancing, he thinks- and they share a sweet, deft, almost too short kiss. The room bristles with exictement -and a wolf whistle or two- as they break away and turn slightly to face the waiting crowd.

"Ready? Don't trip in those heels."

"I wont, to excited, might float outta here."

The guests stand, with rice and confetti at the ready, waiting for the signal.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I now have the privilege of presenting, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Cuphead and Kingsley Dice!"

To Cuphead's credit, he doesn't trip on the way out, nor jump at the sound of cheers.

To Dice's credit, he manages to sneak Cup away and up the stairs of the farmhouse for some quick heated kisses before the guests can filter into the reception. 


	24. Chapter 24

_**Reception** _

 

They practically fly up the stairs, laughter bubbling over their lips as they  slip into Dice's room to allow time for the guests to filter into the dining room.

The door closes, and they eye eachother with smiles wide as pianos.

" Mr. Kingsley Dice."

"Mr. Cuphead Dice."

They collide.

Kisses fly between them, quick and sweet and maybe a little teary as the realization of what has just transpired falls over them like a curtain.

" I love you.", Dice purrs as Cuphead places a kiss along his jaw, "I love you so much."

His hand travels along the tuxedo, feeling the filigree and the pearls, the small details he didn't get to see during the ceremony. His hands stall over his waist, his teeth catch his lip gently and they slip into another heated kiss.

"I love you. God, Dice, we're married!", he practically beams, his hands clasp his fingers and he is suddenly aware their gloves are still gone, "You're my husband!"

" All yours~", he leans in and presses kisses along his lips with a smile like a Cheshire cat, "-Proud to call you mine~"

They can hear people filtering into the dining hall downstairs, even as they wrap themselves further into eachother.

"We have to go.", he mumbles in passing as Cuphead nips his lip and presses ever closer, "They're waiting."

"They're waiting to ask you if you were running.", he chuckles, his hands slipping over the small of his back as he leans away to grin, " You kinda made a little scene."

"Im sorry. I just-"

"You don't need to apologize to me, Dice. You got overwhelmed. Everyone does. But you did what you needed. Im proud."

Dice is cascading over him then, kiss after kiss, gentle touch followed by desperate grabs at his body, his attentions. He knows not to muss his suit or makeup but God, how he wants to just lay down with him and be with him and be his and have him. Cup's hands chase his to his waist, his bare touch like w livewire hitting water, he groans and wants nothing more but to stay like this-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"You're on!"

Showtime. They pull away, hands still clasped together, smiles soft and sweet. They open the door and head to the top of the stairs. They can hear music lazily come to halt downstairs, the talking stilled by the sound of a champagne flute being clinked.

" Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to present to you, for the second time.", here there are a few chuckles and whoops here, " Mr. and Mr. Cuphead and Kingsley Dice!"

Carefully, they make strides down the stairs, smiling as Cup concentrates on not getting in trouble with his heels. He does well, their hands clasped together and their smiles bright as the cheers get louder, and family and friends come into view. Champagne glasses lifted to them as they walk down to the center of the dance floor, Cups left hand shifting to his hip as they take the first maneuver of a waltz.

"I love you."

" I love you.", Cup leans into his shoulder, "I love you so much."

The music starts slowly, flowing over them like gossamer on a gust of wind, and they start the first figure. One two three one two three, Dice can see Cup is counting steps as he moves with him, his hands tremble a little. He leans into him slowly and catches him in a shy kiss. They glide across the floor effortlessly then, focusing on one another.

"How're the heels?"

"Good. Gonna take them off right after this, though."

"Hurting?"

"Not yet. But that can change."

He smiles, and Cup lays his head on his shoulder, sweet and soft, Dice chuckles as the champagne he carries bubbles up and tickles his chin, their eyes close and they give in to the dance. The music crescendos as they make their final maneuvers, swaying to the beat and smiling. They stop slowly, the music crooning one last low note as they pull closer, a kiss quickly shared before they walk off the dance floor and begin to mingle with guests.

Congratulations fly, hugs shared, hands shake, and they slowly make their way to the head table amid a sea of friends.

"Congrats!", Djimmi and Bon Bon shimmy right up, clasping their hands and offering wedding cake scented hugs, "You looked so wonderful up there!"

"Thank you so much!", they smile, and Bon Bon ushers them to a large stand just off to the side of the table. There, looking like a confection out of a dream, the wedding cake cascades in white fondant and flowers. The topper, a photo of their ring hands resting together, is nestled between acacia blossoms and viscaria.

"Tadaa!"

"Its gorgeous!", and it is, almost towering above them with swaths of white and flashes of gentle green from the flowers, "Baroness, we can't thank you enough!"

"After you saved my soul, this is the least I could do.", she pulls them into a tight hug, "Congratulations to two!"

Things go quickly after that. They sit, they stand, they toast, they dance. Cup's heels get shucked off under the table so many times during the night its almost dizzying how his height shifts as they move.

The bouquet toss proves to be one of the most ridiculous events to happen that night. Cup is pulled to the floor halfway through the night, the eligible ladies standing behind him in a throng and shouting mock directions as Cup positions himself for the toss.

He closes his eyes and lets the flowers fly, their descent is less than graceful, right into Rumor's outstretched hands....

Upside down, there is a burst of blooms as she rights it, many of the girls getting covered in blossoms. Not sure what this means for the tradition, they laugh it off and concur that there will probably be a lot of upcoming weddings with so many blossoms scrattered over them.

It seems the bachelors will get stiffed for the moment, no garter to speak of for tossing, but Dice soon makes his way to the floor followed by a throng of bachelors. He holds a boutonerre aloft, the one he was wearing just a few moments ago, and give a gentle toss.

After moments of searching for exactly where the tiny bunch of blossoms and ribbons fell to, its quickly secured by Mugman, his height an advantage as the flowers are fumbled his way. Cala wolf whistles from the side, and Mug gets some conspiratorial nudges.

Dinner is delicious and the cake is begging to be cut, almost seeming to taunt everyone with promises of soft layers of cake with sweet butter cream beside. Dice steadies Cup's hand as they lift the top layer off and take the first slice, the scent of peanut butter and the crunch of feuillitine being crushed under the knife wafting up to them.

The cake is soft and sweet, and Cup ultimately finds himself loving it more than the white chocolate, if only because it makes Dice smile.

The party goes on, drinks shared and dances had, cake eaten and stored and soon, with the party drawing to a close, and the sky darkening, its time for everyone to head home. As they filter out, final congratulations offered, hugs tight, hands constantly clasped.

Before they know it, before it really registers, they are alone, save for eachother.

"Was it everything you wanted?"

"And more."

"Good."

"How 'bout you? Was it everything you ever dreamed of? Was it the day you wanted?"

"It was beter than that. It was beyond my hopes."

"Good."

"I love you. Thank you, for sharing today with me. For being with me."

"I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else~"

"Bed?"

"Please."

"Yours or mine?"

"Either. Just come with me."

"Yessir~"


	25. Chapter 25

_**Honeymoon** _

That night they walk back up the stairs, casting glances back at the now empty dining hall, cake box in hand and arms linked, Cup's socked feet making soft padding noises as his heels click together in his other hand.

He yawns, and Dice follows suit. They're exhausted.

But happy. So happy.

He isn't sure of what to say, voice getting hoarse from the quiet after talking and laughing all day. Part of him has nothing to say at all, and another just wants to say something to say it.

Cup looks up to the top of the staircase, seeming sleepier and sleepier with each step he takes.

"Stop."

He stumbles as his foot hits the next step, "Huh?"

"Take the cake, and your shoes. I'll carry you."

"No, Dice, I'm fi-"

"Its tradition. To carry the blushing bride over the threshold."

"Over the threshold, not up the stairs.", he smiles wearily, "Lets keep going. Then when I know you won't fall backwards you can carry me."

They reach the top three steps after, and Dice makes good on his promise, handing over the cake box and lifting his husband into his arms.

His husband.

That slight tingle down his back and the heat spreading across his cheeks, always with that word. His. Husband. Cuphead Dice. His lover, his bethrothed, his husband. They were married. They were each others. His. Husband.

"You grin any wider and I'll be able to play a symphony.", Cup chuckles and lays his head on his shoulder, "Whatcha grinnin' for?"

"You're my husband~"

"Sure am. And you're mine."

That tingle again. If his grin widens more he isn't surprised.

With a quick fumbling of keys and a gentle push, the door to the honeymoon sweet opens. Inside, its dark, the sweet smell of linens and incense the only hint to what lies waiting inside.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Over the threshold. He nudges the door shut behind him.

The lights are soft, the bed looks softer, a little welcome basket nestled in the thick of the covers. Candles rest on the bedside tables, scented and rosy of color, the bathroom adjoining has more of them, set around the rim of the large bathtub.

They'll have to inspect more tomorrow. Right now, what they want is-

"If I pass out will you be dissapointed?", Cup voices as he lays a hand on the comforter.

"No. I'm tired too."

"Good."

They help each other out of their tuxes, tiny buttons flipped open and suits hung up for the night. They locate their pyjamas and toiletries, bushing teeth and removing makeup, Cup empties his head and they collapse into the sheets.

"We're married."

"We are."

"I love you."

"I love you too. So much~"

Their hands clasp, they spend those last few moments of clarity watching eachother, getting closer, trading gentle kisses and reiterating the point.

They were married. That happened today. They cried. They laughed.

They fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

...................................................................................

He wakes up to darkness. Mostly. Then he lifts his head from the pillow. Its early, with grey light filtering through the window and over the bed.

The bed thats empty, save for himself.

The bathroom door is ajar, and from here he can see Cuphead standing at the vanity, night clothes wrinkled with sleep, he stretches and a thin strip of skin is revealed, pale and soft and sweet.

"..Cuppy?"

"Sorry!", the door shuts, "Sorry!"

"You're fine!", he sits up, stretching, "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. you?"

He stands and heads to the bathroom, pushing the door open and slipping inside, "I did." His hands settle into the dip of his hips and his lips nestle just alongside his handle, "Good morning, Mr. Dice~"

"Good morning, to you to, my Husband~", Cup retorts, pressing back into him lovingly, a smile on his lips around his toothbrush.

He decides to brush his teeth before they get too wrapped up into eachother. Slipping away to grab at his bag, toothbrush in hand and eyes not leaving Cuphead.

They finish daily rituals in silence, Cup slipping away to run water into the tub, swirling steam around the room until the mirror is obscured with condensation.

"You get in first."

He steps in, groaning in appreciation at the hot water, reaching up to take Cup's hand and help him in. They sit, quiet for just a few moments, just being close.

The water shifts, he shifts, picking up the soap and working up a slight lather in his hands before handing it off to Dice.

"No cloth?", he ventures, lathering up the washcloth in his hand before going to scrub Cup's shoulders.

"Nah... not yet.", he slips his hands over his chest, down his arms, his sides, under the water, and along...

Oh.

"Cuppy.", he purrs, his hands gripping his sides a little tighter, "Cup!"

"Should I stop?"

"No. Don't you dare."

He smiles and continues, his hands gently tracing his length and his lips softly peppering kisses along his jaw. Within a few moments, they're wound up and stumbling out of the tub, dripping with water and suds. At some point Cup grabs a towel, throwing it onto the bed before they fall into the sheets. It doesn't do much for their soaking bodies as they tumble about.

Chest to chest, hips grinding into eachother, arms around each others shoulders, eyes smouldering, they sink into the sheets and each other.

He smells of clove and bergamot, honey and spice and the slowly building scent of sex. Cup finds himself ducking into his neck just to breathe it in, moans on his lips as his short nails dig into Dice's back.

"Cuphead~"

"Dice please."

They tumble about, moving within one another, letting out little sweet cries as they make love. They arc, they moan, they bite, they kiss, they beg, they sigh, and together they teeter on the edge of nirvana.

"Cuphead, look at me.", he stalls above him, hips fluttering subtly as he waits, "Look at me."

He gasps, swallowing thickly and bringing his attentions to his husband. He is red in the face, trembling, his legs clenching around his waist.

Hes smiling, his eyes that bright virulent green that Cup knows is pure lust and want and need, he leans forward and catches him in what hes sure is the deepest kiss he can muster, hips snapping forward.

His cries are muffled, his hands grip his back and he knows he will leave marks, but God he will love them. The moans he lets out are muffled in their kisses, and soon they evolve into screams as he tips over the threshold of pleasure.

Dice follows suit, a deep growl on his lips as he empties himself into his husband.

They shift, they move, closer and closer until their is no space between them, hands intertwined and smiles light. The morning sun filters over them in thin lines, almost as crystalline as the mornings they shared when they were first dating.

"We've come a long way."

"Mmhmm.", he presses a kiss to his knuckles, "A very long way."

"I love you... I don't think I can say it enough."

"I love you too.", he finds himself smiling wider, his eyes slowly dimming in intensity, "I love you."

They slip in and out of sleep and awake, hands still clasped, bodies close, and the smell of muted soap and cologne on their skin. They smile, they share kisses, they observe each other, the air itself seeming to shimmer with a feeling, and emotion.

Elation. Happiness in its purest form.

Love.


	26. Chapter 26

_Stubble_

 

For so long he's assumed that Cuphead either couldn't grow facial hair or wouldn't.

Maybe it looked patchy? Or felt funny? Maybe he just had the kind of face that became a mess once you added layers?

He never asked, Cup never told.

He's honestly spooked silly when Cup crawls into bed after a week away gardening for a big spender on another isle.

"I love you~", a kiss to his cheek and Cup is passed out beside him.

Now he would have simply slurred, "I love you too!" and gone back to sleep until he could wake up and properly love up on his husband....

If the kiss hadn't grated so hard it made his mustache twitch.

He sits up and rubs his cheek, looking over to see Cup face down in the pillows, not quite asleep. not quite awake.

"...Was that stubble?"

"Mmmh?"

"I said 'Was that stubble?' "

"Yes.", muffled and sleepy.

"Let me see.", he sits up to his full height and switches on the bedside lamp, "I'll be quick and you'd just shave it off in the morning."

With a grunt, Cup flops over and gives Dice a weary look, "Its bad, isn't it?"

His chin and lip area have taken on a darker grey than the rest of his porcelain, its honestly more peach fuzz than stubble. Still, to feel it was...

Was?

Dice leans, rubbing his cheek along Cup's and resisting a shiver that could make his teeth clack.

"Dice?"

"Don't shave it.... keep it"

" I look like a hobo."

"You don't! Its nice... makes you look... distinguished. Worldly~"

Cup chuckles, the sound deep with sleep and making his bristly cheek move agaisnt Dice once more, "Or like a carding comb."

"A handsome carding comb"

"Oh!"

He steals a kiss or two...or four, and lays down beside him, arms wrapping around him to bring him closer.

"...Dice"

"Sleep."

" You're gonna get beard burn if you keep rubbing agaisnt me"

"Thats what I'm counting on~"

" _KINGSLEY_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writers block took a break and this flopped out


End file.
